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^ AMES' SERIES OF ^^ 

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Brae; The Poor House 
Girl 



( DRAMA. ) 



WITH CAST OF CHARACTERS, ENTRANCES, AND EXITS, 
RELATIVE POSITIONS OF THE PERFORMERS ON THE 
STAGE, DESCRIPTION OF COSTUMES, AND THE 
WHOLE OF THE STAGE BUSINESS, CARE- 
FULLY MARKED FROM THE MOST AP- 
PROVED ACTING COPY. 



PRICE 15 CENTS, 



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A. D. AMES, PUBLISHER, 



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^ ALPHABETICAL LIST DF ^ 

iiiHEs' Edition nf Plays. 

^ y^CL-s -*- 

FIFTEEN CENTS EACH UNLESS OTHERWISE MARKED. 



2 
164 
39 
43 

100 
125 

89 
113 
226 

14 
160 
161 

60 
152 
173 
143 
1V6 
162 
117 
2U7 

52 

7() 
141 

26 
191 
194 

3 

9 

46 

227 

211 

163 

9] 

36 

34 

229 

TIS 

81 

85 

83 

196 

29 

18 

10 

45 

79 

144 

67 

97 

119 

92 

112 

71 

105 

7 

201 

193 

200 

121 



DRAMAS. 

A Desperate Game 3 2 

After Ten Years 7 5 

A Life's Revenge 7 5 

Arrah de Baugh 7 5 

Aurora Floyd 7 2 

Auld Robin Gray 25c 13 8 

Beauty of Lj'ons 11 2 

Bill Detrick 7 3 

Brae, the Poor House Girl.... 4 4 

Brigands of Calabria 6 1 

Conn; or, Love's Victory 11 3 

Dora 5 2 

Driven to the Wall 10 3 

Driven from Home 7 4 

East Lynne 8 7 

Ilmigrant's Daughter 8 3 

Factory Girl 6 3 

Fielding iManor 9 6 

Hal HazarcT, 25c v.lO 3 

Heroic Dutchman of '76 8 3 

Henrv Granden 11 8 

How He Did It 3 2 

Hidden Treasures 4 2 

Hunter of the Alps 9 4 

Hidden Hand 15 7 

Ligiits and Shadows of the 

Great Rebellion, 25c 10 5 

Lady of Lyons 12 5 

Ladv Auclley's Secret 6 4 

Man and Wife 12 7 

Maud's Peril 5 3 

Midnight Mistake 6 2 

Aliriam's Crime 5 2 

Michael Erie 8 3 

Miller of Derwent Water 5 2 

Mistletoe Bough 7 3 

Mountebanks (The) 6 2 

Old Honesty 5 2 

Old Phi '.s Birthday 5 3 

Outcast's AVife 12 3 

Out on the AVoild 5 4 

Oath Bound 6 2 

Painter of Ghent 5 3 

Poacher's Doom 8 3 

Reverses 12 6 

Rock Allen 5 3 

Spy of Atlanta, 25e 14 3 

Thekla 9 4 

The False Friend 6 1 

The Fatal Blow 7 1 

The Forty-Niners 10 4 

The (icntloinan in Black 9 4 

The New Magdalen 8 3 

The Reward of Crime 5 3 

Through Snow and Sunshine 6 4 

The Vow of the Ornani 7 1 

Ticket of Leave Man 9 3 

Toodles 7 2 

Uncle Tom's Cabin 15 7 

Will-o'-the-Wisp, 9 4 



NO. 

41 
192 



73 
75 
187 
202 
185 
189 
181 

183 

104 

146 

53 

51 

59 

102 

63 

62 

58 

168 
136 
124 
178 
T99 
174 
149 

37 
237 
126 
114 
219 
221 

87 



16 



Won at Last 7 

Zion 7 

TEMPERANCE FLAYS. 

At Last 7 

Adrift 5 

Aunt Dinah's Pledge 6 

Drunkard [The] 13 

Drunkari's Warning 6 a 

Drunkard's Doom 15 5 

Fifteen Years of a Drunk- 
ard's Life 13 4 

Fruits of the Wine Cup 6 3 

Lost 6 2 

Our Awful Aunt 4 

Out in the Streets 6 

Rescued 5 

Saved 2 

Turnef the Tid. 7 

Three Glaitses a Day 4 

Ten Nigiits in a Bar-Room... 7 

Wrecked 9 

COMEDIES. 

A Pleasure Trip 7 

A Legal lioliday 5 

An Atflicted Family 7 

Caste 5 

Home 4 

Love's Labor Not Lost 3 

New Years in N. Y 7 

Not So Bad After All 6 

Not Such a Fool as He Looks 6 

Our Daughters 8 

Passions 8 

Rass and Bottles 4 

Solon Shingle 14 

The Biter Bit 3 

TRAGEDIES. 
The Serf 6 3 



^ 



FARCES AND COMEDIETTAS. 

129 Aar-u-ag-oos 2 

132 Actor and Servant 1 

12 A Capital Match 3 

166 A Texan Mother-in-Law 4 

30 A Day Well Spent 7 

169 A Regular Fix 2 

80 Alarmingly Suspicious 4 

78 An Awf 1.1 Criminal 3 

65 An Unwelcome Return 3 

31 A Pet of the Public 4 

21 A Romantic Attachment 3 

123 A Thrilling Item 3 

20 A Ticket of Leave 3 

175 Betsey Baker 2 

8 Better Half 5 

86 Black vs. White 4 

22 Captain Smith 3 

84 Cheek Will Win 3 

225 Cupi'is Capers 4 

49 Der Two Surprises 1 



i 



BRAC; THE POOR HOUSE GIRL, 
A DRAMA 



IN THBEE ACTS, 



C. L.^IPER, 



— TO WHICH IS ADDED 

A DESCRIPTION OF THL: COSTUMES— CAST OF THE CHARACTERS- 
ENTRANCES AND EXITS-RELATIVE POSITIONS OF THE 
PERFORMERS ON THE STAGE, AND THE WHOLE 
OF THE STAGE BUSINESS. 



PRINTED FROM THE AUTHOR'S ORIGINAL MANUSCRIPT 



Entered according to act. of Conf/ress in the iienr 1SS7, 6v 

A. D. AMES, 
in (he office of the Librarian of Congrcs6- at ^'ashiiigfoii. 



>%r7?7 ^ 



/ 



CLYDE, OHIO: 

A. D. AMES, PUBLISHER. 



BBAC; THE POOR HOUSE GIBL, ^ , 

CHARACTERS REPRESENTED.^ 



f?a- 



Brae. A poor house girl adopted by Clarissa. 

Bob Wilder A summer boarder of Avoca farm. 

Frank Karl In search of Brae'. 

John Perkins Overseer of Karl and Southen's business. 

Ransom Sage A lav^yer in search of an heir to Southend property. 

Clarissa Avery A country milliner, 

Dorcas Jones A country dressmaker. 

xVnna Blake In Porkin^s power. 



COSTUMES. 

Brac. Act /—Plain olnghani frock. Act ;?— Dress of the same. 
Act S — Dress of fashionable young latly. 

Bob. Act 1 — Bicycle suit. Act 2 ami 3 — Street dress. 

Frank Kaiil. Act 1 and 2 — Street dress. Act o— Full dress. 

John Perkins — (A heavy cloak for the murder) Full dress. 

Ransom Sage. Street dress. 

Clarissa Avery. Old fashioned silk dress. 

Dorcas Jones. Act 1 — Common woolen dress. Act -2 — Old style 
silk. 

Anna Blake. Act ^— Sti-eet costume. Act J— Stylish silk suit. 



TIME OF PERFORMANCE— TWO HOURS. 



STAGE DIRECTIONS. 

R., means Right; l., Left; r. h., Right Hand; l. h., Left Hand; c, Centre; s. e,; 
[2d E.,] Second Entrance; u. e., Upper Entrance; m. d., Middle Door; f., the Flat 
D. F., Door in Flat; b. c, Right of Centre; l.c, Left of Centre. 

B. K. c. c. L. c. L. 

»*♦ The reader is supposed to be upon the stage facing the audience. 

* (T >9C 1%* 

Any one desiring to produce this play is at liberty to 
do BO free of charge, 

TMP96-0G6926 



BRAC; THE POOR HOUSE GIRL, 



ACT I. 



SCENE— Set house, l. 1 e., with front removed from the heighth of the 
bottom of the I'jindow, so that lohat transpires icithin the rooms can 
be seen from the audience, lioom furnished to represent a parlor 
millinery establishment. In front and to the ii. side of the set 
house is a vacant space, representing a garden lohich is surrounded 
by a neat garden fence; gate c. The front of the stage, from about 
the second icings, is vacant. Above the vacant side of the room is 
a sign "Miss Clarissa Avery, i-'as/ijoua^^c Milliner.'^ At the 
rise of the curtain Miss Avery is discovered seated at c. of the 
room trimming a green phish hat. 

Clarissa, (after pinning on a couple of sun flowers) What next, I 
wonder ! to think of these homely flowers beiii' the rage I I recollect 
ma wouldn't have one of 'em growin' in the front yard, even 'mong 
the genteel flowers, but had 'em out by the woodslicd, 'cos tliey 
were called good for fever and ager. Now they tell me they use 'em 
at fust-class parties, and decorate grand rooms with 'em. Well, it's 
live and learn I (holds hat at arm^s length) There now, Miss Pris- 
cilla Primrose, your bunnet's done ! anil I must say that it does my 
arteestic 'bility great credit in showin' so much style, (looks at the 
clock) LorsakesI It's nine o'clock and I haven't* made my toilet 
yet. AVhat if any one had called ! I must go at once. 

(exit at side door 

Enter Brac into garden in front of the house from the back part of 
the stage; comes with a run and jump. 

Brac. Well, here I is, right side up again ! 1 just failed down 
and hurt myself like fun. How good it is of Miss Avery to give me 
a home. I wish she'd give me more to eat; let me see. Yesterday 
I had some cold potatoes for breakftist, and for dinner I had— what 
did I have? Oh, I know ! I had nothin', for she made me go with- 
out, to punish me forshearin' her pet cat. Ha! ha! ha! he did 
look awful comic though, and she called me an imp ! I don't know 
what that is, but she says that they can't go to heaven. Well, I 
can't help it. I'm just as I growed ; but I think she '11 have a fight 
to get through the golden gate. Oh, dear! I wish I was rich like 
Bob ; then all the girls in town wouldn't make faces and call me 
names. I don't care, I don't like to be made fun of just bec'us— I'm 
"-po— or — (sits on the seat in front of gate and cries 



4 BJUC; THE POOR HOUSE GIUL. 

Mnter Bob from l. 1 e. 

Boh. (discovers Brac cnjiny) Why, hallo, Brae! What's the 
trouble? What are vou crying for? Come, don't mind it; now 
you just see what I've "brought yov\— {takes bananas from his pocket) 
there ! 

Brae. What's Ihem? 

Bob. 'I'hose are bananas. 

Brae. Bandauas ? 

Bob. No, not bandanas but bananas, and now I want you to eat 
everyone of them. 

Brae. What! all— of— them? 

Bob. Yes, all of them. 

Brae. At once? 

Bob. Xo, not at once, but one at a time. 

Brae. My stars ! what a picnic! 

Bob. Now go ahead and eat, and I'll watch and see that dear 
Clarissa don't see you. 

lietires a little; Biixc is venj slow about eatinfj at Jirst, as though 
afraid, but finally eats ravenously. 

Bob. Heavens! she must be awful hungry I I thought she looked 
as though she was starved. Just see her eat, will you? 

Brad Oh, ain't these just 'licious ! 

Bob. Delicious, you mean, Brae. 

Brae. Yes, I s'pose I do. {aside) 1 can never get the big words 
in right, somehow. 

Bob. {sitting by her side) I say. Brae, I've a good mind to give 
your mistress a good sound bit of advice. 

Brae. You'd better not, unless you're goin' to 'vise her how to 
regain the bloom of youth, and then she ain't the worst guard. 

Jiob. What makes you persist in calling her guard? 

Brae. Bee' us she's been lookin' out of the door every mornin' 
and under the bed every night for lifty years, to find a husband; 
ami if she ain't on guard— then all right! 

Bob. That's rather strong proof, I must say. But, Brae, do you 
know the reason she uever puts her purse in her pocket? 

Brae. No, unless she's like me and ain't got any pocket. But 
that ain't it, for I see'd her take a pep' mint out the other day, and 
she didn't give me one nether. Tell me what's the reason, quick! 

Bob. Because it is so light she is afraid that it will jump out. 

Brae. Why, Bob, I didn't think you would make fun like that. 
But say ! Miss Avery says that she never had a man kiss her. 

Bob. I don't believe tluit. 

Brae. But 1 do ! 

Bob. Why, Brae! what makes you believe that a lady could have 
grown up and not have been kissed ? 

Brae. 'Cause the men are all afraid of powder. 

Bob. Well, Brae, I'm not! {kisses her 

Brae. Oh! he — he kissed me! {aside) and I ain't washed my 
face this week. 

Bob. Well, Brae, there's going to be a party down to Avoca 
farm, and the gentlemen are all obliged to take ladies, so 1 n\ ish to 
have you go with me. 

Brae. Oh, Bob, I'd like to go so much | But — I— can't, be — be- 



BBAC; THE POOR HOUSE CilBL, 5 

c'lise I'm only Miss Avery's slavey and ain't wanted wliere all tiiem 
fine follvs are. 

Boh. Yon can.go with me if you will, and I should like to see 
any one say anything against you Avhen I am arojind. 

Brae. I thank you Bob, for your invite, bnt — I can't go, no how, 
and I — I must go in now, so good bye. 

Boh. Forgive me, Brae, I did not mean to make yon unhappy I 
Goodbye! I'll go and have a good long ride now; lor, after you, 
my bicycle is my best friend. 

Brae. Bob! don't you look so serious or Pm afraid you'll take a 
header from your bicycle. 

Boh. I'll be carefnl — good bye ! {exit Bob, l. 1 e. 

Brae. Oh, why can't I dress and go like other glrhs? Here I 
have to stay day and night and work for my food and she manages 
to make my diesses out of her old ones. I only wish that she'd 
make me more than one at a time, so's I could kinder dress up and 
look a little bit prime when Bob comes. I do try and not be stupid 
when he's here, but I get so awful hungry that [ don't care for 
nothin' or nobody. Lor, sakes! want them bandanas immense 
thongh? Now I'mgoin' to take my books away before old gu.ardy 
gets her eye on me. 

(takes a hook from under the seat and runs off at the right 

Enter Clarissa into room from side door, dressed for the day. 

C. There now, I'm ready ! I owe it to my profession to make a 
good appearance, else how could the public trust my taste in bun- 
nets. I got the latest style for doing up my hair from the best place 
in town, and had my dress boughc in New York, so as to give it 
tone. And now I'll just look out — I always do every morning — so's 
to sec if he's comin'. (looks out of the door, slams it to, and comes 
hack) Oh, dear! I didn't see him anywhere ! but he must come 
sometime I know, for I have a sort of presentiment. Now if I was 
to pick out a wedding outfit I'd have a pale pink brocade silk dress, 
with light green satin piping and black pass-a-commentry fringe, 
and for a hat I'd have tlie faintest, lovliest, creamiest plush 

Brac httrsts into the house from the door, and Clarissa starts vio- 

lently, 

Brac. Oh, mum, the boys have been and went and gone and done 
it this time, they have ! 

C, Lor sakes, Brac ! what do you come a bustin' into a room like 
a turnado in that 'ere way for ? Don't you know what sensibilities 
and high strung nervous organizations is ? 

Brac. (anxiously) No, mum I Is it good to eat, mum? 

C. (vexed) Good to eat! gracious goodness, girl! you'll drive 
&ic mad with your stupidity ! What has them imps of Satan been 
up to now ? 
^Brac. They've been alterin' the sign, mum. 

C. Altering my sign ! Well, I never ! That comes of bein* a 
lone woman with ho protector. Oh, why did I scorn all the suitors 
for my hand? I might have had my choice of them, (hrings in the 
sign, holds it up and reads it, and sets it heside the other ^ it reads: 
"Miss Clarissa A-very cuss of a Fashionable Milliner.^* Stands off 
amllQoks at the sign) For the landsake! my best sign distroy^tl 



6 BBAC; THE POOB HOUSE GIRL. 

and I'll beobliojecl to use the old one. Brae, eome here! Do you 
know done this ? No, of course you don't 1 How can I expect you 
to know anything ? still it's a good time to learn you one thing, 
and that is, that the imp who did this job will git his deserts bye 
and bye, for the Good Book says that "the wages of sin is death/' 

Brae, When are you goin' to draw your salary, mum? 

C, What's that? You ungrateful wretch I Didn't I give you 
some cold griddles for your breakfast this morning? but it's no use; 
the more I do for you, the sasier you git. Where have you hid 
yourself to all the morning? 

Brae. He hide myself— ha! ha! ha! I was out in the garden, 
and oh, almost everywhere. 

C. I 'spected as much. You'll be a fust class tramp if you don't 
stop. Can't I teach you that "a rollin* stone gathers no moss !" 

Brae, What's that? What do you mean by a rollin* stone ? 

C Why, any pirson what's always movin' about from one place 
to another and from one business to another. 

Brae, Then a fellow what stays still all the time the moss grows 
to. 

G, That's the ideal That's what I've been teaching you. 

Brae, You must be all covered over, for people say that you have 
been here for fifty years, mum. 

C, Well, I d'clarl [sharply) you just march yourself about 
j^our work and don't you ever come to me with your impertinence 
again, you sasy brat, or I'll send you back to the poor farm. 

Brae, (aside) Oh, ain't she just jolly mad, though? 

Bursts out laughing and ritshes out of the room at the door, leaving it 

open. 

C, I don't see for the life of me what makes that child so stupid ! 

Brac comes in and closes the door behind her. 

Brae. Lor, mum ! There's a real man at the door, and he wants 
to see you all— a— lone. 

C, Good gracious, he's come at last ! Now see that you are look- 
ing your best, Clarissa. (primps before the glass 

Brac, (suddenly ) There's a hole in your dress, mum. 

C, Good heavens ! where ? Where is it ? 

Brae, (getting out of reach) At the bottom, mum. 

C, Oh, you imp ! I almost fainted with shame. 

Brac. Say, shall I ask him in, mum? 

C, Well, I never ! Of course you'll ask him in, stupid ! 

Brac, (yells) Come in, *'stupid!" 

C, Gracious heavens, girl, you are the biggest natural born fool I 
ever saw. 

Exit Brac and returns v:ith Mr. Sage. 

Brac, Here he is, mum. Mr. Stupid. 

Brac gets behind Sage and goes through motions of the introductioUr 

Sage. Allow me! (presents his card 

C, (aside) Mr. Sage ! Well, that's not a bad name, though it 
does remind one of catnip and peneroyal, 



BP.AC; THE POOH HOUSE aiJRL, 7 

Brae, (suddenly) Fire! Fire!! 
C, (alarmed) Good gracious, child ! where ? 
Sage. Where? where? (advances and puts hand on Brac's arm 
Brae. No where, sir. 1 only see'd her commence to spark, and 
thought I'd give the alarm before she blazed. (Sage turns aside 

0. {angrily) Oh, you child ! Go out of the house this miuute. 

Brac starts for the door but stops, jumps up and screams. 

Brae. Lor, mum! there's a mouse under your dress; he just 
runned there. 

Clarissa screams, and jumping up into a chair, holds her dress, up to 
the top of her boots. Sage advances hastily, looking for the mouse. 
Brac strikes an attitude and says: 

Brac, There, she blazes ! 

Sage, (laughs) Well, you are enough to make anything blaze. 
(assists C. to the floor) Pray calm yourself, my dear madam, there 
.s nothing to be feared from such a small animal, and he has gone 
long ere this. (helps himself to chair near rear door 

C. Why don't you leave the room as I told you, and don't you 
dare to come in here again unless you are called ; do you hear? 
(goes to Brac; aside) You shall go to bed without your supper for 
playin' that joke on me. You didn't see a mouse at all, you wretch ! 

Brac has edged up behind Mr. Sage's chair, and pulling his hair and 
ansivering Clarissa at same time. 

Brac. Small loss, mum. (rushes out of door at back 

Sage, (jumps up and exclaims) Thunder ! I don't know but It 
was a small loss, but a few of them would leave me bald-headed. 

(rubbing his head 

C. (advancing and speaking softly) Oh, what is the trouble, sir? 
Does your head ache ? 

Sage. No, it's nothing, only er She's a remarkably lively 

little girl, though. 

C. Yes, she's altogether too lively. I just took her out of the 
poor farm, and am trying to make a pleasant home for her. (aside) 
I think that she lives too high. 

Sage, Yes, I think that she is a little lively ; but let me return to 
business. I— I'm from India. Sage takes chair up to table 

C. Sho — ! . (drawing a chair up to table also 

Sage, A lawyer ; this is my card. 

(pointing at the one he had given her 

C. I want to know ? 

Sage, Yes, of course you want to know; well, I'm hunting for 
heirs. 

G, Dutell? 

Sage. Or heiresses! 

C. For the land's sake ! 

Sage. Did you ever hear of a Luke Southen, who was rather a 
wild youth and went off to India? 

C. Loi-*, yos— he was my second cousin on my mother's side; 
her naiup was Mandrake before— (Sage interrupts her and continues 

Sage. Yos— yes, I know all about that. But Luke, poor fellow, 
has left this world forever. 



8 BBAC; THE POOB HOUSE CflBL, " ' ^' 

C. Goodness me! You don't mean it! , , 

Sage. He turned over a new leaf when he got to India, and saved 
money. 

C. lie saved money ! Du tell'? ^ ,,r i, t i r^ i, 4- 

Sane Yes I will, if you will give me time, vvell, he left aoout 
half a million' to his next of kin. Now we found no will, and in 
lookino-up his family, we find that they have all passed away with 
the exceptions of a cousin by the same name you. bear, though she is 
so far distant that it will be quite a task to get the property hut it 
will in time naturally come to that person. Now if you are the same 

Clarissa, and it can be proved that you are the last and nearest 

C. {huri'ieaiy) lam— lam! His folks are all gone long ago. 

God bless them ! and I am the * . , . - 

Saqe. Exactly. I've been looking for you for a long time, {rises) 
Allow me to congratulate you on being {offers his hand 

C, {rises and takes his hand and holds it) As the poet says— 
"The last ungathered rose 
Upon the parent stem." 

Saae. {pnts his other hand on her arm— they still holding hands) 
Ah! 'certainly that is your fault, madam, or else there must be a 
sino-ular insensibility in this community. You are out of your 
spliere here, madam. In the great metropolis, amid congenial 
minds, you should shine— 

C. {droppinq his hand and walking back and jorth with clasped 
hands) I know it, sir. I have always felt that I was born for bet- 
ter things, {stops suddenly in fropt of f^AGY.) But how soon can I 
draw? 

Sage. Draw ? 

C. Yes, draw checks to be sure ! 

Sage. Oh— ahem ! Well, you know the law is very slow In its' 
processes; you understand— delays, lots of red tape, and all that 
sort of thing. {resvmes his seat 

C. And what sort of thing? 

Sage. Why, delays and red tape, of course. 

C. Sho! {sits opposite Sage) Eed tape! well, that's curious! 
But I don't want any tape. I can buy that any time; all I want is 
to draw checks. 

Sage. But don't yon understand? that instead of getting money 
at once, you'll have to pay out something; a mere trifle compared 
to the prize. You'll have to fee a lawyer to prove that you arej^our- 
self— that you are the last of the race. 

C. Oh, if that's all, that's easy enough. Any one about here can 
give ycu my history. I suppose you will undertake the case? 

Sage. With pleasure — I may say since I have seen you, with in- 
finite pleasure, madam. 

C. You do me a great favor in the interest j"Ou show in ray be- 
half; and now you must remain with me — no excuses taken. So 
you can make yourself at home here, while I see about the dinner. 
'{goes to door and calls) Brae ! Brae, I say ! 

Brac rjishes into door. 

Brae. Here I is! 

C, You go to the hotel at once and get a chicken — 

j5r«c. A— what? , ■.., 



.^ ^ BnA ; TRU: POOB HO tSE 01H, ^ 

O, A chicken, stupid ! 

JBrac. A chicken stupid ! wliat's that? 

C. Oh, you — you'll drive me mad ! You go and do as I tell you ; 
get the chicken ; tell Bunker I don't want any old fos-sil, but the 
finest he's got, and some early peas and salad — 

Brae. Oh, my ! she's crazy, sure I 

C, Shut up, will j^ou? and then order some ice cream from 
Crown's; mind, no dippin' into it I Now be a good girl and l#t mo 
know the moment they come, and you shall have a nice dinner. 

{exit 0. into room vnth Sage, and Brac out oj street door 

Enter Karl in front, r. 1 e. 

Karl. So this is the place where the little one lives. I wonder 
how she's treated. They say up town that the old woman ain't 
very liberal. Let me see; it's nine months since poor Luke died; 
before he died we gave John, our overseer, the place and sufficient 
capital to carry it on, as he had always been honest as far as we 
knew; and then Luke gave me his will, and all the information 
that he possessed about his child, and told me to find her and see 
that she had her rights, which I i)romised to do. After we buried 
him I started at once as I didn't like the place after my iwrtner's 
death. And John, well he drew his money and came by the same 
boat as I, and he was going to get his wife and mother, he said ; but 
I guess that he thought he would settle up all of our property in 
his own way, the night he stabbed me in the back and threw me 
overboard; but the time hadn't come for old Karl to pass in his 
chips. So here I am and I'm bound to see the girl righted. Hallo I 
here comes some one down the road. I'll step aside, as I don't wish 
to be seen here I {steps hack in the shadoic and as John 'passes ex- 
claims, aside) What! Jack Perkins here! This means mischief ! 
I must find out his object and plans. 

John enters l. e., looking all about the place. 

John, Ah! here I am! {looks in vnndoic) What! no one at home, 
not even the old lady ; that's rather funny ! I thought that she was 
always in. AVell, this will give me a chance to think and to lay my 
plans. I've already made the acquaintance of Brac, though she don't 
seem to fancy me. Kow I have all the proofs with the exception of 
tlie key to that confounded locket and his will. I don't sec how I 
missed finding them on Karl that night. I thought I felt in every 
pocket before I threw him over. (Karl moves his position) What's 
that! Somehow ever}^ time I think of that act I start as if I had 
been shot. I must be getting nervous, for every time I see a stran- 
ger, a kind of fear takes possession of me. Supposing Karl had 
escaped? No, that was impossible ; and he carried the key and 
will down to the bottom of the sea with him. I was sorr}' to harm 
him, but he was too honest and stood in my way, so he had to go. 
Now he's gone, and having no relatives, leaving no will, when I 
get back to India I must get possession of his property, which will 
give me a cool million. But to settle this first; now I must try and 
marry this Brac and so get control of her money; or if fading to 
win her, she must disappear, and I will then be master of the situa- 
tion. But the old woman is a relation of his, and if some one 
nearer is not found, she will get the prize. I hear that old Sage is 



10 ' • BBAC: THE POOB HOUSE GIRL, 

over here tiTing to discover the lipirs. I h;ive it now! If I fall 
with the girl, sne's i*een no more; nnd'then I will make Anna come 
and take her phice. pooling ofi stage, right) Hallo ! Here conies 
Brae now ! 

Enter Brac, r. 1 e. 

John^ Why, hallo, my little beauty! {admnclug to Brac 

Brae, (surprised) Good morning, Mr. Perkins. 

John. You are as bright as a dollar asd as pretty as a picture. 

(chucks her under the chin 

Brac. (angrily) Say ! where'd you get 'einy (steps aside 

John. AVhere did I get what, Brac i 

Brac. The spoons! 

John. Brac, you're a prize for some man who wants a nice, 
smart, handsome little wife. 

Brac. (angrily) Do you know^ what you are? 

John. No! What am I ? 

Brac. (spitefully) You're an old gas bag. 

John. Brac, why is it that you always avoid meeting me, and are 
always so formal to one who takes a great interest it) yon '? 

Brac, You take a great interest in me ! Why, the sight of you 
makes me ugly. You don't have any interest iu me — there is some 
other reason for your attentions. 

John, (aside) Confound her tongue! I shall have to be careful 
how I act for she mistrusts me already, (aloud) I'm very sorry that 
you have this feeling towards me and if it is possible for me to do 
anything that will lead you to (change your opinion, I beg of you to 
command me, for I have a greater regard for you than any other 
person I ever saw, and you know that I'm always lonesome when 
I'm away from you. 

Puts his arm aromul her waist; she jumps aside and stands with fin- 
gers spread apart, ready to scratch. 

Brac. Oh! what's crawlin' on you? (John takes a step foncard) 
Don't you come near me or I'll. scratch your eyes out. 

John. Come now, Brac, don't get mad, for it spoils the beauty of 
your face. 

Brac. I won't, if you promise not to do that again. 

John. I'll give you my word of iionor. 

Brac. That's not bang up 'scurity, but I'll risk it. 

John. Brac, you're an angel ! 

Brac. (looks up into his face, and says sarcastically) Say, you 
ought to be in a sausage factory. 

John. Why, what makes you think so, pet? 

Brac. 'Cause you could furnish the stuffin' for nothing. 

John. Brac, you are very rude to one who wants to be your best 
friend. 

Brac. (aside) You may have it out in wanting for all I care. 
(aloud) Mr. Perkins, if I've said anything that I ought to be sorry 
for— I'm— glad of it ! 

John. I'll stop that tongue of yours when you are once in my 
hands, young lady. (rxit l. 1 e.^ 

Brac. Now I'll get the things. I didn't like to bring them wliile 
he ^vas here. Oh, how I hate that man! (exit k. 1 k. 



JBHA C ; THE POOR HO USE GIBL. 11 

. Karl, {comes forward) So that's your game, friend John! Well, 
we'll see who wins in the long run. And so my little girl hates 
him, and that's as I conld wish it. Ah, here she comes; I want to 
have a good look at her, so I'll stop her. What ! She sees me and 
has gone across the garden. Well, I shall have to wait until some 
other time. (exit l. 1 e. 

Enter Brac ints the house throwjh the street door. Takes things from 
basket and places them on a ^caiter, calling them by name. 

Brac. What ever's come over her? I never see'd such a spread, 
and don't it make my mouth water? Lor', wouldn't it be prime if 
she'd give me a lick of the gravy. Just look at that ice cream ! 
Ain't it Just scrumptous, though? {yells) Here they is, mum : 

Enter C, takes waiter and looks at contents. 

C. (turning around) Brac, you can go out for a while and when 
we get through I'll call you and give you your dinner. 

{exit through door 

Brac goes into front yard. 

Brac. Oh, dear! I wish Bob would come now. Somehow I 
always kinder forget how hungry I is, and— and we do have such 
nice times together, singin' and dancin', {enter Karl and stands 
listening) and talkin' and walkin' and all that; but I wonder if I'll 
ever go to balls and parties and picnics, the same as he does; but I 
don't suppose I can, for he's ever so much more shined up than I 
am, and it always makes me feel kinder 'shamed of myself. Then 
he don't like to have me climb trees, nor fences; and oh, I scared 
him so t'other day ! 1 told him I was goin' swimmin' with Tom and 
Charlie Mack, Ha! ha! ha! just as if I didn't know no better. 
And he won't let me ride his bicycle, but I will some day when he 
don't know it ! No, I won't neither, for if he should tind it out he'd 
get mad, and— and I— I don't want him to get mad at me, for he's 
the bestest friend I've got. I just wish I had lots of friends like 
he's got. 

Karl, (coming forward) Won't you let me be a friend of vour^ 
my little lady? 

Brac. (aside) My ! he— he called me a lady ! (aloud) But I— I 
don't know you. 

Karl. Come, give me your hand and say that you'll let old Karl 
be your friend, won't you? 

Brac goes up and places her hand in his icith a slap. 

Brac. Yes, sir! you may be my bestest friend, number two. 

Karl stoops and kisses her forehead. 

Karl. Bless you, my child! and to repay you for your trust, I'll 
be a father to you. 

Brac. You'll be— my~tather ; oh, sir, don't make fun of me, for 
I — I never had a father, and — and I didn't think by your f^ice, 
(looking up into his face) for you look so kind, that you would 
make fun of me. 



12 BBAC ; THE POOB HOUSE GIRL, 

Karl. Forgive me, little one; I did not intend to make sport of 
you. And as for j^our father, I knew him well, and he was one of 
the truest friends that I ever had. 

Brae. Oh, sir, yon know who my father is, and will you take me 
to him? But— 

Enter John, r. 1 e. 

Karl. But what, my child? 

Brae. What did you mean by say in' that you'd be my father? 
{anxiously) Are you him? 

John, (aside) Ah, there she is! Who's that with her? I must 
find out what he wants. 

Karl, No, child, I'm sorry to say I'm not. But I knew him 
well; and since he's gone to join your mother, I'll take his place, if 
you'll only let me? 

Brae. Gone— my father — and mother— both dead. Oh, sir I have 
I always got to be alone and live here? I shall die if I do. 

{weeping 

John, (aside) So you know about this affair ! (shakes his fist at 
Karl) and you will be iier father, will you? Well, we'll see about 
that; but I think that vou'll be of about as much service to her as 
the one in India, af.er to-night. (exit l. 1 e. 

Karl. Come, conu', little one, don't cry any more; Bob and I 
will be your friends, and we'll see what we can do for you ; so cheer 
up. 

Enter C. to room, followe J l»j Sage, and goes to door. 

C, (calling) Brae ! B-r-a-c, I say ! Brae ! 

Karl. Some one coming? I must not be seen. (retires 

Brae . Com in', m u m ! 

Karl. Brae, meet me here again as soon as you can, will you? 

Brae. Yes, sir. Good bye ! 

Brac goes to the house and enters just as Sage is corning out, runs 
against and almost upsets him. 

Sage. Good gracious, my corns! (hnstibj) I mean foot. 

C. Oh, you imp! AVliat do you mean by runnin' against folks, 
like you was a steam locomotion ? 

Brac. Oh, sir, I— I di»dn't moan nothin' ! 

Sage. That's all right, my dear! never mind about it. And now 
Clarissa — 

Brac drops dish she has in her hands and looks astonished. 

Brae, (aside) Why, he called her by her front name! 

Sage. I've the honor of wishing you a very good morning. Let 
me say that we'll commence the case just as soon as you feel so 
disposed. 

C. You are too kind, Rnnsom, and I can never repa.v you for the 
obligations that you heap upon me. I will attend to "the matter at 
once. 

Sage, Good morning, madam. (exit off it. 

C, Good mornin', sir. 



BBAo ; THE poon HOUSE aini. 1^ 

O. turns and sees Brac standing over tray, 

C. You just march yourself away from there, do you hear? 
(takes tray and puts it in next room and brings back the back bone of a 
fish and^gives io Brac) There, now I you've heen a good girl, and 
I don't mind rewardin' yo. Don't go a gorgin' yourself and gettin' 
sick; there's nothin' so disgustin' as greediness. 

Brac. Dutell? [Bnxc eats ichat little ihere is left 

<J. Yes, I"Nvas goin' to; I'm goin' to live in the best hotel in Uu 
place. 

Brac. Lor' mum I [on the hone of the fish 

G, And you shall go and live with me and he my little maid. 

Brac. Made of Avhat, mum ? 

C, Lady's maid, child I to dress me and do up my hair. 

Brac. Doj^ourhair? I thought they stayed done when you 
bought 'em, mum ? 

C AVhat are you talkin' about? What do you know about my 
hair? 

Brac, I know it always do look beautiful and just the same, 
whether it's on your head or hangin' on the back of the chair, 

O. You saucy brat ! but you shall wait on me and run my 
errands, if you are not too stupid. 

Brac. Shol 

C, And now I'm goin' over to call on Miss Dorcas Jones and see 
if I can get her to buy my stock and business. 

{putting on bonnet and shavjl 

Brac. For the land's sake! 

C. So you pick up the things and have everything in good order, 
for I'm going to try and bring her to terms. . (exit off k. 

Brac. Well, I never! 

(Brac cornea out front of stage, and Kaul joins her 

Karl. Brac, is that your aunt? 

Brac. Her? No, she's my guard. But how did you find out 
my name? I never told you. 

Karl. Why, didn't I hear her call you just now^ ? 

Brac. She did holler for me, didn't she? But what's your name? 

Karl. Didn't I ask you to let old Karl be your friend? 

Brac. Oh, yes! and I'm to call you Mr. Karl— Mr. Karl and Bob, 
and Bob and Mr. Karh 

'Karl. Who is this Bob you have so much to say about? 

Brac. Oh, he's — he's — he's real nice and kind and — and just like 
you, only he don't ask questions like you. 

Karl. Well ! well ! I won't ask any more questions that will 
bother you, if you will agree to introduce me to him. 

Brac. Loi-'sakesI I'll do that in a minute, and I know you'll 
like each other, for he's so good and clean and — and you can't help 
liking him. 

Karl. No, I suppose not. But, Brac, I must be going; but I 
have something to tell you of great value to you and you must not 
forget anything that 1 say. Have you a silver chain around your 
neck, fastened by a little locket? 

Brac. Yes, sir I 

Karl. Let me sec it. 
{she show chain; he produces key and unlocks the locket and relocks it 



U BBAC ; THE POOR HO USS mBIl^ 

again) It is the one and we are safe; now, don't yOll eV^r S' 
that to any one else, or say that you have such a chain, if any OHfl 
should ask, will you? 

Srac. No, sir, hut— 

Karl. Don't ask any questions, but listen, for 1 have not g^p 
time to explain it all to you now. I may not see you again for some 
time, hut promise me that you will hold no conversation Whatevej* 
with any one in private. 

Brae, (confused) What! not even Bob? 

Karl. Yes, you may talk with Bob all you like, hut no one else; 
and don't ever go away from the house with any one else except 
Bob or myself, unless some one brings you this key; and when any 
one shows you this, and asks you to go with them, be sure and go; 
and now, one thing more— don't ever stay in the house alone, do you 
promise ? 

Brae. Yes, sir, but— but why? 

Karl. If you wish to find out about your father and mother 
don't forget what I have told you ; and now, as I see your aunt 
coming, you had better go in; so good bve, little one! 

{exit R. 1 E, 

Brae. Good bye, Mr. Karl. 

(exit throufjh tjate c. and around the hoiisQ 

Enter C. and Dorcas into room, 

C. There, 1 told you it wasn't goin' to rain, you see its all clear- 
in* up! 

Dorcas. Yes, and I suppose that the business that you want to 
sell me wants clearin' up, too? 

C. Yes, mum! You'll find everything in fust class shape, and— 
oh, Dorcas, his voice haunts me still ! 

Dorcas. I dare say it does. If a fellow had come to tell me about 
half a million, his voice would haunt me for a long time. 

C. But I mean tiiere seems to be a something — a sympathetic 
chord—what do you call it? — a vibration in the heart. 

Dorcas. Oh, I suppose like that funny bone in the elbow; I've 
had more experience in such matters, and I tell you, it's love. 

C. Yes, I suppose so. (sighs) I'm a woman and it must come 
sometime. 

Dorcas. Well, it's taken plenty of time to come. But, good 
gracious! there's half-million to comfort you. 

C. Yes, that's so! But as I was sayin', I thought that /ou 
might like to join the business — dressmakin' and millinery goes to- 
gether so well, you know. I'll sell out cheap, for I want the money 
10 carry on my case. 

Dorcas. Oh, he isn't goin' to do it for love, then? 

C. I couldn't scarcely ask that on so short acquaintance. So, if 
you like to take the business out and out, we won't haggle about 
the terms, and you can get a milliner from the city to help you. 
The people will miss the character and poetry I put into my bun- 
nets, but I must carry my talents to another sphere. I think of 
buying an old ancestral place that's been handed down, you know. 
I can see myself tread in' the marble halls — 

Dorcas. Look out for rhumatiz ! You're sure it's all right, or 
you wouldn't want to sell. Well, I've been wantin' to enlarge my 
business and as I've got a few hundred saved up — of course you'll 
Bigd papers not to open again. 



BBAC ; THE POOH HOU^B CUBL. 15 

G. Open I Dorcas Jones, why should the lucky possessor of half 
a million wish to open a millinery shop? 

Dorcas. Oh, I don't know. Riches take wing, you know, 

C. Yes, but I shall take whigs with my riches. What do you 
say to five hundred dollars for ray business. 

Dorcas, Five hundred! Hum, I'll give you one-tifty for it. 

C» I'll take it, Dorcas! and I'll agree to buy my bunnets of you 
in the bargin. 

Dorcas. Well, then, supposin' we go over to Square Smart's and 
have everything fixed up. 

C. That's the idea ! Dorcas, I always told people that you had a 
wonderfully level head about business ; but, Lor' me, how dark its 
grown. My sakes, if we ain't goin' to have a turnado then I ain't a 
foot high! {thunders 

Dorcas. Gracious me, how I wish I was home. Clarissa, have 
you got any feathers? if so, do let me get between them or I know 
I shall be killed. (thunders and lightens 

C, Oh, Lord! Come quick, Dorcas ! Oh, my sensibilities ! Oh, 
Dorcas, if we don't get on the bed before another flash, I shall be- 
come flustrated right liere on the floor. (exit in haste at side door 

SCENE II — Roadside or street. Enter John, r. 1 e., u^ith cloak and 
loide hat. Heavy storm — stage dark. 

John. This shower is coming along just in time. I must silence 
this intruder. I wonder who he can be? What! Some one com- 
ing! insteps aside 

Enter Karl r. 1 k. John adoances and hits Karl loith butt of revol- 
ver and as he falls stabs him; this is followed by a vivid flash of 
lightning and very heavy crash of thunder. John starts as if 
struck, and trembles viohntly; takes bottle from pocket and drinks. 

John. My God! What a crash that was! I thought the whole 
forest was crashing down about my head. I must get away from 
here, but — I wonder if he has auy papers that I might want. I'll 
see (looks around and then searches him; a bicycle vjhistle is heard) 
Confound it ! am I to he ih-'ivcn o^' het'ove— {to histle again) Curse 
their bicycles ! (exit in haste fi. 1 e. 

Enter Bob on bicycle r. 1 e., whistles as he comes on; sees Karl and 

dismounts. 

Bob. Here's sonje poor fellow that has been struck down by the 
iitorm. Hallo! he's— he's been murdered! (discovers he still lives 
and tries to tvake him) Why — Thank God ! he still lives. 

« 
Produces flask and turns some down Karl's throat; Karl groans and 
turns: Bob gives more brandy and Karl opens his eyes, rises up 
and looks about, then sinks back. 

Karl. Who are you? Where ami? AVhat has happened? Oh, 
I remember; John struck me again. I saw his facj by a flash of 
lightning. 

Bob, There, there, sir ! be quiet and rii run and get help and 
take you home. 



xe BBAC; THE POOB HOUSE GIBL. 

Karl. Ko— no— wait a minute and I'll go along with you. But— 
you haven't told me who you are? 

Boh, I am Robert Wilder, commonly called Bob. I was riding 
home on my bicycle and saw you and thought that you had been 
hurt by the storm, and so dismounted to see if I could be of any 
assistance; I never dreamed of its being a case of attempted murder. 

Karl, Bob— Bob— I remember now ; do you know Brae? 

Boh, Know Brae ! Well, I should say that I did ; why, she is such 
an innocent little thing that any one can get acquainted with her; 
and then, she's as smart as a steel trap, and is so ambitious to learn. 
It's a pity that she can't be sent to school ; and she don't get half 
enough to eat. I just wish that I was of age and I'd take her away 
from that keeper of hers and send her to school. I tell you what it 
is, I think more of Brae than I do of my bicycle. But I forgot you, 
sir. Can I do anything for you ? 

Karl, Yes, you can help me get upon my feet, and then I'll go to 
the nearest house. 

Boh. I'm afraid you will hurt yourself, sir. 

Karl. Not at all, my friend Bob, I'm all right now. Come 
along, sir. This is not the end of this matter. 

End of Act First. 

CURTAIN. 



ACT II. 

SCENE — The lav n in front of Avoca Farm, containing trees, rustic 
se<f(i<, rtr., etc. Enter John, R. 1 e. 

John. So okl ,S;ige l»ns taken up the case for the ancient relative, 
and he seems to le (iiiitc interested in the personal aflairs of his 
client. NoAv, it 1 let him go on until he is so far in his own trap 
that he'll have to ninii y this ClarissTa of his, I shall at least have 
done one good deed, aiid he is rich enough to make her comfortable* 
even after I take away Luke's fortune, and so I'll keep tlie case 
standing, while I must try and win Brae's love, or else— ah, here 
she comes now ! 

Enter Br AC, l. 1 e., sees John and turns to go hack, 

John. Ah, Brae, you are just in time. I've been trying ever 
since you came here, to see you. 

Brae. You've seen me three times a day for the last three weeks. 

John. Yes, I know, but I wanted to see you alone. Do you know 
you've improved wonderfully since you came here? 

Brae, (aside) More taffy ! {aloud) And do you know you grow 
more like a bumble-bee every day? 

John. You say that because I'm always flying after you? 

Brae. N o, but because you are a hum-bug. 

JohJi. Brae, what can I say or do that will make you think more 
of me? 

Brae. I guess tliat you'd have to stand in front of me all the time 
and then I'd forget. 



BUAC; THE POOR HOUSE GIRL, n 

Johu A\\\ I never forget you. If you only knew of .-ill the 
anxious hours I pnss when away from 3^oiir society, if you knew of 
the depth of my reo^nrcl for you, you would at least pity and spare 
me from beins: tlie o'lj^ct of your'ridicule. 

Brae, (aside) He was his muzzer's own boy, so he was. (aloud) 
I'm awful sorry for you, but I'll tell you what to do! 

John. AVell,"whnt'is it, pet? (advances toward her 

Brae. Go and take some paregoric. 

John. But you don't understand me — 

Brae, (aside) Xo. nor I don't mean to, either! 

John. I do not suffer from any physical illness — 

Brae, (aside) I should judge not by the way you c.it. 

John. Mnie is a mental sickness. 

Brae. My ! what a surprise that must be to your head. 

John. I am afraid your love of fun Avill lose you many friends if 
you don't look out, for you are very rude at times. Bu*^, Brae, I 
want to ask your advice about a very import matter. 

Brae. It's very important that you should have my advice too, I 
suppose? 

John. Yes, decidedly so! 

Brae. Well, you shall have it, onl}'^ don't get mad if I happen to 
speak too plain. 

Enter Bob, r., sees them, stops end listens. 

John. Now, Brae, I'm in love — 

Brae. Oh, sho! that's nothing new to you ! 

John. Yes it is, though, for I'm really "in love this time, with the 
best little woman in (lie world. She is very poor and as ]iroud as 
she is poor, while she knows that I am rich and can give her 
everything that would make a line lady of her, yet I wotdd gladly 
LMveaway my wenlth and work for her, if she would only try anil 
leini to lovo me. This is my story. Brae; what Avould you advise 
me to do? I don't know just how to t«ll her, for she is so shy and 
proud that it is with great diflicuity that I ever see her at all, and 
then she always puts a stop to my conversation whenever I com- 
mence to speak of her. Xow, how shall I manage to tell her? 

Brae. And that's why you neve*- smile or look hap])y ; now I'm 
real ashamed of the waj^ I have treated you, but I— I thought that 
. you was awful cross and — and you always looked at me so strange 
like, that you made me afraid of you, but I'm awful sorry now. 

John: Thank you. Brae, I knew that you had a kind and honest 
heart; but you are not afraid of me now, are you? 

(comes vp and takes her hand; she draws it away and steps hack 

Brae. I— I don't know; but my advice — I must give you that — 
(speaks veri/ slow) AVell, Mr. Perkins, if I was in your place, the 
very next time that I saw her I would tell her that I loved her and 
then ask her — No, I wouldn't! I'd tell her the story just as you've 
told me and then ask her for advice and then — 

John. And then what. Brae? 

Brae. But you haven't told me what she looks like, yet? 

John. And would you like to know? 

Brae, Oh, ever so much ! for I never heard a real love story be- 
fore. 



Ig BJfAC; THE FOOlt UOVSE CilliL, 

John. Well, then, listen ! {riives description of Br\c 

Brae. "NVliy, thnt's almost inc I 

John. Yes, Brne, it is you ! and 1 ^vnnt you to be mine, will you, 
darling? 

Fiits his arm arovvd her and ,^foo]>i< to liss her. >7<e jumps away and 
si 02^8 his face. 

Brae. Sir, if 1 am poor, I know what's honorable, and I'd sooner 
starve than live witli you. 

John. Beware, young lady, or you may liave a chance to do as 
you say, for if something should beniissedfrom the house and found 
on you, you would lose your place, and then who would have a thief 
in tlie'r house; mind I don't say that this will happen, nor do I 
mean to reflect on your honesty. 

Brae. My honesty has as yet never been questioned ; and as for 
your threats 1 don't care that for them (snaps her Jinrjers) or you 
either. 

John. Uaveacarel you are getting too high ; you'll fall before 
long. 

Brae. You'll never be trcublcd that way, for you are so low that 
you can't fall. 

Exit John, x., in a raye. Bob comes forward. 

Boh. You had him that time. Brae. 

Brae. Oh, Bob! did you hear him? 

Boh. Yes, Brae, 1 heard all, for you know that I promised Mr. 
Karl not to lose sight of you while he was away. 

IJrt-'.c. And I promised not to talk to any one but you and— and I 
foigotall about it. Oh, what will he think? 

Boh. You promised not to talk in private, and you did not for I 
was here and heard all that was said, and I came very near knocli- 
ing tliat man down before he got through. Brae, I'm so glad that 
you — you refused him. 

Brac sits on rustic hench; Bob sits beside her. 

Brae. And so be I, and— ain't you getting too near? 

Bob moves np and puts his arm around her. 

Boh. Brac, do you know I'm— I— I wonder where Mr. Karl is? 

Brac. I don't know, but— sav, ain't you afraid— of— of— 

Boh. Of that Perkins? No, 'I'm not. 

Brac. Xo, I mean — ain't you afraid of— haven't you grown 
afraid of— ^of powder? 

Boh. (aside) My stars, that's a straight one I (kisses her i, aloud) 
Do vou tliink that I have? 

Brac. A— little! — 

Bob. Well, I won't be again. But, Brac, did you know that 1 
was going away ? 

Brac. You going away ? Why, what for? 

Boh. 1 must go baclv to school for another year, and — I want you 
to be sure and — remember me, won't you? 

Brac. Oh, why nuist you go away so soon? First Mr. Karl goes 
away without even saying good bye, then I have to lose you. 

Boh. Do you think tliat you will miss me very much, Brac? 



2)IiAC; THE POOn HOUSE GIML. 10 

Brae* Yes, lots ; and— I shall be awful lonesome when you are 
gone. 

Boh, I shall miss you very much for I've been learning to loye 
you more and more ever since I first saw you. , 

Brae, In love with me ! you ? 

Bob, Yes, in love with you. Brae. But I can't ofler you a for- 
tune, for I am not wealthy. 

Brae, You love me ! — sure ? — no joking ? 

Bol), Yes, I'm sure, and no joking. 

Brae, AYell, then, you can have me, for I — t love you ! (draws 
herself slowly axoaij from him) But, Bob, this can never be ! You 
are to far above me for you to think of ever making me your wife, 
for I am not educated enough to go with the same people tliat you 
do, and — and I couldn't bear to see you ashamed of me. 

Bob, But I'll send you some books so j^ou can learn; and you 
must write and let me know how you are getting along, vrill you ? 

Brae. Yes. 

Boh, Now, good bye. ( they embrace 



C. What— what does this mean? 

Brac and Bob go to opposite sides of stage. 

Brae. I — I — don't know, mum. 

Bob. It means — that — that I was — was only showing Brac how to 
teach a dog arithmetic. 

C, (aside) I wish Kansom would be my teacher. 

Sage. Ha! ha! ha! Well, that's good ! And how do you do it? 

Bob, Why, you just tie up one of his paws, and he'll put down 
three and carry one, every time. 

C, Lor' sakes ! 

Sage. Young man, you've got quite a start in"- tlie world, but 
don't try to go too fast; take it easy and you'll come out all right in 
time. Just look at me, now I'm a self-made man. 

Brac. If I had done the job I'd have put more hair on your head. 

C. Sto]> your noise, you imp ! Don't you have any res])ect for 
no one? (Bkac and Bob i^ialk to and fro at rear of^ stage) Dear 
Hansom, you must not mind them; they are j^oung and foolish, 
and must have their jokes. 

Sage. My dear Clarissa, I don't mind them in the least, and if I 
did, how could I so fai- forget your charming presence. Believe me, 
this is the happiest moment of my life. 

C. Oh J and the cruelty of the fates to have kept us apart for so 
many years, when we was born for each other ; as the poet says : 

*'Two souls with but a single thought, 
Two hearts that beat as one." 

Sage. But I Fcem to have known you all my life, and after we 
get this laAv business settled, I knoAv where to find a very appro- 
IDriate companion to journey through the walks of life with me. 

C. (aside) That's just 'like poetry! He's so poetical ! (aloud) 
And how is the case coming out? I wish that it Avas all settled 
now. 

Sage. Well, you know that I had the thing almost settled day 
before yesterday, when in comes another laAvyer with a dispatch 



20 BJiAC; THE POOH HOUSE GIRL. 

from India, snj'ing that there had been some hnportant tacts dis- 
covered in regard' to tlie case, and so he got it laid over until he 
could go to India and collect his proofs and so on; and as the case 
cannot be jcalled without him, we sliall have to let it hang for a 
time. So I thought that I'd run down and inform j^ou of the facts, 
and also enjoy th^ pleasure of your charming companionship. 

C. You arc very, very thoughtful of me. But you must be 
quite famished, for you liave not had any dinner yet. Brae, what 
time is it? 

JJoh. It's Just twelve, madam. 

0. Only twelve! why, I thought it must be more than that. 

Brae, it's never more, mum, it just be*?ins at one again. 

0. For the land sake ! You are gettin' so smart of late, that 
there's no tellin' where you'll stop. 

Sa(je. Xever mind, my dear; you know the old saying that 
"boys will be boys," and why should not "girls be girls." 

Sage and C. exit l., talking. 

Brae. That makes twice to-day that she has almost complimented 
me. 

Boh. AVhy, how Avas that? 

Brae. She just said that I was "so smart," and this morning she 
almost called me honey. 

Boh. Almost? 

Brae. Yes, she said, "come, now, beeswax, fly around." 

Boh. Kather doubtful compliments, I should think. But 1 be- 
lieve that you told me that slie had taken up painting. How does it 
ngree with her? 

Brae. 1 don't tliink it is very healthy, for it makes her awful red 
in the face. {hell rings 

Boh. Hallo I there's the dinner bell, and we must start or we'll 
be late. {exit hoth to liouse 

Enter John, r. 

John. Xo one here ! good! I must have that Brace disgraced, 
branded as a thief and sent away, for lean never make her think 
that I love her; then after she leaves, I'll find her and persuade her 
to enter a convent. Once there I need have no more fear of her; 
but in case she should refuse to enter that haven of rest, I know a 
sure way to stop her tongue. I was extremely fortunate in finding 
her asleep the other day, and with the aid of a little ether, I obtained 
an impression of that locket and chain which has been a draw-back 
for so long. I never dared ask her for it, and she never wore it in 
sight; but I have it at last, and now for a chance to hide my ring in 
her room and then, the crime once fastened on her, she can't escape 
mc. {exit l. 

Enter Beac from house. 

Brae. A letter for me ! I wonder who it's from ? Oh, it's from 
Mr. Karl, and he says: — "Dear Brae, {that's me) I shall come to 
Avoca Farm to-night and want to see you alone. Don't let any one 
see this letter and don't tell any one that yoii are coming to sec me, 
not even Bob. I send you the key so tliat you may know that this 
4;omes from me. Now don't fail to be on the law^n in front of the 



SJiA C ; THE POOR HO USE GlliU U 

house at ten o'ciock, sharp, to-night, as I must see you at Once. 
Remember, at ten to-night. Yours truly, Frank Karl." What 
a funny man he is! I don't know ns its proper for me to come out 
to see a man so late, but I'ui eomin' and I'll take that revolver gun 
Bob gave me and if it's any one else but ^Ix. Karl, I'll shoot— 

Enter Bob from house. 

JBoh. Who's that you arc going to shoot. Brae? 

Brae. Xo one — I — 1 was only saying a piece that I learned. 

J3ob. Why, Brae, where did 'you get that letter ? 

Erac. I— I had it sent to nie by— 

Bob. By who? by that clodhopper of a farmei ? 

Erac. No, not by him; it was sent by— oli. Bob, I can't tell you 
now; y6u must wait until tomorrow. 

Bob. No, I can't! I won't wait! let me see who it's from. 

Brae. Bob, you have no right to speak to me like tnat, if you are 
my friend. * {^-'■it into house 

'Bob. Brae, I— I didn't mean jtl Oh, wh.at a fool I've been. 

Enter John, r. 

John. And always will be as long as you let that girl control 
you. 

Bob. Sir! I don't know what right you have to interfere with 
my af!airs; and as for that young lady, I won't hear a word against 
her from you or any one else. 

John. Oh, as you please ! Only don't be surprised to see your 
idol fall to the ground some day. 

Bob. What do you mean ? Have a care, sir, or I shall be tempted 
to thrash you, you sneak ! 

John. What! you thrash me? Ha! ha! ha! Well, that's good! 
But let me advise you to beware how you call names, or I may do 
what you threaten. 

Bob. I should like to have you attempt it, sir! I'm not afraid o£ 
you, and as for names, I say to your face that you are a coward. 
Good day, — sir ! {hows and walks off slowly, l. 

John. Curse his impudence! Ah, here conies Anna! How 
luckj^ he left in just the nick of time; now to give her some informa- 
tion as to the part that she must take. 

Itgroi'js dark as night is approucliing. Enter A:^na, n. 

John. You are on time, I see, Anna. (looks at watch 

Anna. That's more than I can ever say of you. 

John. We have no time to talk over old stories, so if you'll listen 
I'll tell you why I sent for you. 

Anna. Ver^- well ! 
' John. You seem highly interested and if you display as much 
zeal in the pursuit of ttiis object, we will undoubtedly have excellent 
success. But the reason I sent for 3'ou is this. There was a large 
fortune left by a friend of mine in India, to his wife and child in 
this country, and as they arc both dead, I propose to get possession 
of this property. 

Anna, And what has all this to do with me? 

John. Everything, if you wish to become independently rich, 



,?^ BUAC; THE POOB HOUSE CUML, 

and will do as I wish ; now I want you to be this girl and to claim 
this fortune. 

Anna. And how am I to accomplish this? 

John. Why, you were left an orphan and was adopted and edu- 
cated by some kind people who have lately defied, and it was shortly 
after their death that I discovered you and brought you here, and 
put your claims in the courts for you. 

Anna . And why go to court about it if I am the only heir ? 

John. I am glad to see you display so much interest at last. 
(gives her a letter and package) Here is a letter that will explain all, 
besides giving you what instructions you may require; and as re- 
gards the key to tA\e chain, that, of course, must be returned to me. 

Aiina. What am I to receive for all the trouble and risk I run ? 

John. One-half the fortune, and the love of your humble ^ervant. 

Anna. Bah! [snaps her fingers) that for your love ! I've tried 
it too often to have any fiiith in it. 

John. Come, now, Anna, you must not quarrel with your dear 
old Jack — 

Anna. That's enough of that I I'll agree to do this if you are 
sure that the rightful heirs are dead, not from any love for j^ou, but 
because it promises to give me wealth; and if one-half of this for- 
tune is not left entirely with me — I'll destroy it wholly, as far as 
you are concerned — do you hear ? 

John. Have a care, woman, I'm not to be crossed in this matter I 

Anna. John Perkins, you are not dealing with the little innocent 
girl you betra3'ed four years ago, but with one who knows j'ou, and 
how to take care of herself, and does not fear j^ou in the least, 
coward that you are. Kow, if you have anything further to say in 
regard to the plans, I will hear you. 

John. Nothing, except that you must let me know where to find 
you at any moment. 

Anna. And you must keep me informed as to the progress of the 
aftair, and we'll get this fortune, if you have told me the truth about 
the matter; for I shall have it looked up and if you have lied, it will 
be a sorry day's work for you when you took me into your secret. 

John. Can you doubt me'i:' 

Anna. Have I ever had any reason to believe you, you traitor? 

{exit Anna, k. 

John. Curse her! what a tiger she's got to be; I'll tame her, be- 
fore I get through with her — and now for Brae, she must go at once. 
(looks at icatch) Why, it's most ten o'clock and as I've put in quite 
a good day's work, I'll retire to the house, there to arrange for get- 
ting rid oi" Brae — the last of these obstacles. I did not know it was 
so late or I would have accompanied Anna to her destination. 

[exit into house- 
Enter Karl, k. 

Karl. I wonder who that woman was that I surprised watching 
the house and muttering to herself; all that I cojild hear was, "Will 
you! we'll see who'll do the taming." Well, it was some poor 
domestic that has been discharged probably. It must be most ten 
by this time. I wonder if Brae has faith enough in me to keep the 
appointment; if she don't, I shall have to take Bob into ray con- 
fidence, {clock strikes ten) There's the hour, and no — ah, here she 
comes. This way, Biac. 



BUAC; THE POOR HOUSE ami. S3 

Brae. Oh, Mr. Karl! I'm so glad to see you ! But wliv didn't 
you come earlier? 

Kavl. Because I could not; and now I must tell you why I am 
here. There is an enemy of yours iu this house and 'he is about' to 
do you a great injury, and the only way that you will escane it is to 
leave here. 

Brae. An enemy to me ! Why, I never did anv one any wrono* 
that would make them hate mo, and I can't leave here for l have no 
place to go and no frieuds. 1 shall starve— {falls on seat 

Karl. Brae, I will be your friend. I want you to leave here and 
go with me. I have already made arrangements at a boardino- 
school for your education, and as I have money enough and have no 
one to look out for, I am going to take you in chai^ge for a while. 
Now, if you want to go school and have everything that you want* 
all you have got to do is to go in and get your hat and come alono-. ' 

Brae. Oh, how kind of you ; but you must ask my guard. ° 

Karl, ^o, Brae, for I have not got the time, and besides she 
has no right to be consulted about this. Xow hurry up, for my 
team is waiting for us. 

Brae. Well, I'll run in and say good bye, and — 

Karl. Xo, you must not let a soul know that you are <yoino- nor 
nnist you let them know where you are. ^ °' 

Brae. Not — not even — Bob? 

Karl No, not Bob— yes, you may write Bob after you have been 
away for two weeks, but he must not tell any one else where you 
are; novv take this (r/ices letter) and go to your room and copy it 
and then take your hat and come out; go as quietly and quickly as 
possible, while I go and get the team. (ej;^-^ ^J 

Brae, ((foing to house and turns at door) I wonder if I'm doin'o- 
right; but he's so honest that I know he won't Inirm me, and then 
it'll be such a suprise to my enemy and my guard, to wake up and 
fina me gome; and then I'm to go to school and have all the dresses 
and money I want, and I'll study ever so hard so's to be like Bob. 
Yes, I'll go I (exit Brac into house 

Enter Kakl, ii. 

Karl. So far, so good ! I had an easier time getting her to go 
than I expected, but I think that I should liave taken he.i anyway 
for I am getting afraid of that John ; it's about time he tried some- 
thing else besides love to get that money. Hallo, here she is now ! 
Are you all ready, little one ? 

Brac. Yes, sir. (Karl leads her off; she turns) Good bye, Bob I 
Good bye, everybody I (exit both, to the right ■ 

Scene changes to early morning. Enter Sage from left. 

Sage. What a lovely morning! Oh, what a vast diflerence one 
finds between the mornings in a city and in a place like this, where 
all the beauties of nature are temptingly displayed to the eye. If I 
were an artist that I would transfer the scene to canvas. 

C. rushes from house xoith letter in her hand, 

C. Oh, Ransom, catch me, I— I faint! (falls in his arms 

' Sage, Oh, thou fairest of all llowcrs ! it is with extreme joy that 
I embrace thee again. She grows heavy ! (places her on a spM) 



U :BBA C : THE POOP, HO USE GIRL. 

Kow let the gentle zephja-s and the pearly dews restore thee to thine 
own animated self again. (liqhts cigar 

C. Oh, Ransom ! what shall I do? 

Sage. Whatever you do, my variegated pink, don't faint this way 
again. 

C. Oh, my sensibilities and high strung nervous organization are 
completely earthquaked. Read this {gives letter) and know the 
cause of my commotion. 

Sage, {aside) I'd rather not if it's contagious, (reads letter alond) 
"Dear Guard : You will be surprised not to find me this morning, 
but l am tired of this klud of life, and am going away. 1 thank you 
for all you have done for me, and hope some day to see you again 
and to thank you myself. Say good bye to all, for me, your 
slavey, Brac." Well, if that isn't spunk, then I'm a fool ! 

Sage lays the letter beside C. 

C. The ungrateful little thing, to leave me in this way I I dare 
?ay she has run away with some j^oung chap. 

Sage. Well, my dear, it's no use crying or scolding, for either 
one wont bring her back ; if you want to find her, the best way is to 
tell the people and have her searched for. 

Enter Bob and John, r. 

C. I'm not going searching for hei ; all there is, if she didn't 
like my ways and has runned awa}'', let her; like as not she'll bring 
up in the pooi house, where I took her from. I'm sure if she's lost, 
it's not my fault. 

Bob. Who's lost? 

Sage. Why, that poor little Brac has taken it into her head to run 
away. 

John. Are you sure? (turns to C.) Which way did she go? 

C. You don't suppose I know, do you? I don't set up all night 
and watch my maid, to see that she don't run away. 

Boh. But didn't she leave any word — or anything? 

C. Yes, there's the letter! (pushing it towards hiu 

Boh. Good heavens — a letter I 

f. Yes, a letter, and you are welcome to all the information that 
you can i:et from it; T suppose that you'll try to find her? 

Boh. I shall do all that I can. " (Bob takes the letter 

Sage. That's right, young man, and if I was not obliged to re- 
turn to the city this morning, I'd help you in your search, but when 
you find her let me know, and we'll see what can be done for her. 
I think some folks might be more interested ! (e:>-it u 

O. Oh, he's going away without saying anything. Oli, Ransom I 

(exit after Sage 

John. Mr. Wilder, let me ofter 3'ou my assistance in finding the 
young lady. 

Bob. Excuse me, but I prefer to act alone in this matter. 

John. As you please; but will you allow nic to rend that letter? 

Bob. Why, certainly I (gives letter ichich ^o\\y, rends: Bon icalks 
side and stands alone ««l,; aside) And this is the Ic'ti'r Br-c would 
aot let me read j'esterday. Perhaps if I htid not been such a fool 
annd so hasty, she might have told me where she was going; but I 
stiall find her ! 



BBA C ; THE POOJi HO USE GIItL. S5 

John. Thank you, sir! and let me say that if you are the first to 
to discover lier whereabouts — for I am g'oinij; to do what I can to 
discover her — it you will accept of a favor, I can place her in a very 
fine family. 

Boh. Very kind, I an sure I but once she is found, I also know of 
a home she can have without any trouble. (John hon^s and exit l.) 
How I dislike that man ! and still he appears to be a gentleman, 
and only for that little (piarrcl tlie other day, we might have been 
friends. But now to find Brae! " {exit h. 

Enter C. from r. 

0. Oh, the cruelty of these men I 1 never thouoiit that Ransom 
coidd get provoked at his little j>i*sfey willsy woolsy. Oh, I slmli 
prespire; I know I shall! {takes seat and covers face with hamh 

Enter DoKCAS/ro«i l. 

Dorcas. Why, Clarissa, what on earths a troubling you? I heard 
down town as how Brae hrul gone. 

C. Yes, she run away after I'd been to all the expense of fixin' 
her [][) so as she'd look kinder decent, for my maid. 

Dorcas. Well, I wouldn't worry mj^self about it, though folks do 
say as how you was too hard on the girl; but I tell 'em that she was 
a regular scamp and couldn't be kept nowhere. 

C. Thank you, Dorcas, you always did know me better than 
anybody else. She was an awful trial to me. 

Dorcas. But how is your case coming out? It must be a costing 
you a pile of money by this time? 

C. Yes, it's gettin' pretty expensive, but then it's nothin' to the 
prize. 

Dorcas. Xo, I suppose not! and have you decided on the day 

yet? 

C. No, he don't seem to come to the point, ray tlear; and some- 
how I can't seem to get him up to it. He shies every time. How is 
it done, Dorcas? You ougnt to know, betn' older. 

Dorcas, {aside) Older, ahem ! {aloud) Well, mine didn't need 
any managing, but you mignt say say something of goin' to Europe. 
You arc thinking of that, you know. 

C. On a bridal tower! Oh, I thank you so much, Dorcas, and 
now you must come into the parlor and have a cup of tea while I 
show you dear Ransom's picture. {exit both to house 

Enter John from l. 

John. And so she's found at last! Here I've been wiring the 
country and had two detectives at work for the last two weeks, and 
all to no purpose, for it now turns out that she was murdered by 
some one aud left in the woods. It was almost impossible to recog- 
nize her, and the chain was gone, yet I am convinced that she will 
not trouble again, and I am much obliged to the man who un- 
knowingly has placed this fortune in my hands. Now, if Anna is 
all prepared, we will settle this business at the next session of the 
court and then I'll say farewell to this country, for I don't like the 
way things went about that stranger that promised to be Brae's 
father; his body was never found and there was never a report of 



^ BFAC ; THE POOB HOUSE GIRL. 

any khicl about the affair — it looks nel}', for Avlioever he was he 
calletl my name just as I struck him. 1 nnist be quick about tliis 
and be olf before it is too late. {exit r. 

Enter Bon, l. 

Boh. A letter for me nnJ iu a strange hnntl writiuo! I woiuler 
who its from. WJmt, Brae! thank heaven, she's alive I — "Dear 
Bob: I must write you and let you know that I'm alive and well. 
Mr. Karl came after me that night and took me away and placed me 
in this school, and I have such a nice time and all the money and 
dresses and everything that 1 want. The girls and teachers are all 
very kind, and I'm studying real hard and trying to learn so that 
you won't be ashamed of me when we meet again. Mr. Karl has 
taken me in charge, and he says that I may write to you if you 
won't tell any one that you know wliere I am, for he don't want 
anyone but you to know on any account; and now, good bye, 

Yours as ever, Brac. 
P. S. AVrite soon and address, Bracell Southen, 
Bijou College. Brown ville, New Jersey." 

BAk Found at last! I knew that was not her, although everj*- 
body believed it to be her body. Well, now that I know she is safe 
and in such excellent hands, I'll go back to school myself, for I am 
now two weeks late- It's rather hard to say good bye to all of tliese 
familiar scenes, but the best of friends have to part. {exit l. 

End of Act Second. 

curtain. 



ACT III. 

SCENE — lieception room of Aroca Farm, nicely furnished, with en- 
trance at hack. Sage discovered seated in chair, lookinn «^ ^"'^ 
'watch. 

Sage. Eight o'clock I and in half an hour I shall be through with 
this case, which has now been at a stand still for one and a halt' 
years. I sent them all word that I would be ready to receive them 
at half past eight. It is very lucky for me that t never made any 
remark that Clarissa could make anything of; [ have m.-uiaucnl to 
keep within bounds all the time, although I did think that she would 
get me sometimes in spite of myself. 

Enter Clarissa, r. 

C. I was so anxious I could not stay away. 

Sage. I'm afraid that you've gained nothing by coming so soon. 
The other party will not be here until half past eight. I iiuiitiont'd 
the half hour, I believe? 

(J. You did, but I had not seen you for so long, and I did so long 
to liear your voice once more. 

Sage. Yes, 1 know! but it is time they were here. 

{looks at watch 

C. Who were here ? 



BBAC; THE POOB HOUSE GIRL. S7 

Sage. Why, the other clainiaint ! An enterprismg young fellow 
has been at work, while I have been wasthig mj'- time on the wrong 
scent. 

C. Good gracious! what do you mean? and aint I— aint vou 
the— 

Sage. No, you aint and I aint either, If you choose to put it that 
way. The party hr.s proofs that are all right. 

C. Oh, my sensibilities! I shall faint! (looks at S\gf. 

Sage. You had better 11 nd an easy place to fall on before you try. 

C. How cruelly unkind you have grown. But who is the — 

Sage. Ah, here they are now! 

Enter Jonx and Anna, r. 

C. Bakes alive! if it aint Mr. Perkins and that air highferluten 
gal ! 

S.sGK and John bow—C. courtesies to John. John introduces Anna. 

John. Allow me to introduce Miss Southen. 

C. Miss Sou then? 

John. Yes, this young lady is the daughter of Luke Southen. 
He was lawfully married to a poor girl years before he left for India' 
They became separated, and while the father was growing rich, the 
mother died in the poorhouse, and left this child, who was adopted 
by some kind people in Brewster, and given a home and education. 
1 have already shown Mr. Sage all the papers and other proofs, so 
that there is no necessity of my going into detail. Believe rne, 
madam, I am very sorry to have to be the instrument of taking this 
fortune from you, but my duty to my departed friend, and his dying 
request, are sacred, and I felt obliged to do all in my power to dis- 
cover poor Luke's daughter. 

C. 1 don't believe it! Luke was never married. Oh, Ransom. 
say that he is wrong, that I am still the — 

Sage. All that he says is only too true, madam. I have examined 
<)verything, and there is no use in my disputing his proofs. 

C. And Where's my good three thousand dollars gone? Oh, I'm 
a ruined woman ! I shall end in the poorhouse myself! 

Anna advances toicard Clarissa. 

Anna. Madam, when I get possession of my rights, I will return 
you all the money you have lost. You will at least accept this 
small present from me? 

Enter Karl unseen, l. 

C. No, I won't ! I don't want your money. You are both big 
cheats and swindlers, I believe. 

Karl. And so they are, madam ! cheats of the worst kind ! 

John. What! Who are you that interferes with other people's 
alfairs? 

Anna, (aside) We are lost ! Oh, why did I consent to this ! 

0. What did you say? Eansom, did you hear? 

Sage. Sir, to whom am I indebted for this ungentlemmly en- 
trance into my apartments, and interruption of my business trans- 
actions. 



^S BBAC; THE POOB HOUSE GTBL. 

Karl. I will answer all questions in due time. As to your busl- 
transactions, permit me to say that it is my business and not yours, 
wliich you and this--gentleman— have been settling. And as for 
the intrusion, I believe that the court room is a public place, and as 
you saw fit to make this'one, I thought best to attend. And, madam, 
I say that these people are swindlers! 
John. Have a care, sir— I 

Karl. I'll take all the care of you that you'll ever require, before 
long. Now it is enough for you to know that T came from India to 
settle up lAike Southen's property; my name you wiU learn later. 

John, (aside) Good heavens! can it be? It is the man I attacked 
in the thunder storm. I'll get away before he recognizes me. 

iSafje. Well, sir, will you inform me what you know of this 
propertj% 

JCarl. I will, sir ! But as it is a long story, you had better be 
seated, (all take seats; John starts to leave, is stopped hy Karl, who 
says). You, sir, may be seated there, {points to a chair directhj in 
front of him) and remain until I finish. Do you hear? 

John. By what right do you command me? Sand aside and let 
me pas's, or — 
Karl. John Perkins, t.ake that chair! 
John, (starts and <\rclaims) My God ! It is Frank Karl ! 

(sinks into chair 
Jvarl. You all know that Luke Southen left a large foj tune. 
Well, before he died, he made a will leaving all of his i)roperty to a 
wife and child in this country. He was married to a poor girl in a 
village not far fyom here, though the marriage was kept a secret 
from his folks. Well, a daughter was born to them, and then after 
a while he left for India; but before he left he had a silver chain and 
locket made, of uniipie design, and then fastened it on the child's 
neck, he keeping the key and his wife agreeing not to remove it 
under any circumstance. After he had been in India about a year 
he was taken prisoner by the natives, and held for over two years; 
on being released he came home with all possible speed, only to find 
that his wife and child had gone to some city, no one knew where. 
He then began a search which lasted over three years, without his 
finding the least trace of them; the idea then struck him that per- 
haps his wife had followed him to India, and with this thought he 
visited that country a second time, only to be disappointed .again. 
He then gave u]) all hopes of finding them yet wandered hopelessly 
about seeking them in vain. It was in this condition that I found 
him one morning, more dead than alive, and after keeping him for a 
time, he told me his stor\'. From that time until his death we Mere 
the firmest and best of friends; later he became my partner, and we 
did a very prosperous business. He had at last found a clew to the 
whereabouts of his wife and was ready to start to this country, 
Avhen he died. In making his will he made one clause and that w.is : 
"Tliat I, Frank Karl, in case I did not succeed in finding liis \\ ife 
and daughter, should either accept his fortune as a last gift from 
liim, or that I might dispose of it as I thought best." 

^Sage. And you have not discovered this heir? Allow me to 
introduce his second cousin, who I — (leads up Clarissa 

Karl. Yes, I know all about that. But before Luke died he gave 
into my trust the key to this locket and also the proofs of Ids mar- 
riage. There was but one person who witnessed all this besides 



BliAO; THE POOH HOUSE GIUL. B9 

myself, and that wasonr overseer, a man whom we trusted implicitly, 
and to repay him for his honesty we settled a sum of money on him 
and gave him the bnsiness. Well, after the funeral, I started for 
here with" the purpose of finding the heirs; after we were well at 
sea, who should I find on board but this same overseer, this — 

Jolm, Spare me, Frank, for the sake of my poor old motlicr, 
whom this blow would kill ! For God's sake let me go I 

{throi'js himself at Kaul's /cc;^ 

Karl. Get up, sir! Well, this — man knew where to look for 

everything just as well as I, and one dark night he stabbed me in 

the back, and being interrupted before he had time to search me, 

threw me overboard, thinking that he woidd get the fortune into his 

own hand« and in his search for the daughter 

Anna. 1 cannot bear this any longer I Oh, sir, I am not the 
daughter of Mr. Southen. I am only a tool of that wretch. Tliis 
chain he had made that I might resemble the child as mucli as 
possible; and now I hope you will find the true party, although he 
declares she is dead. 
Karl. But she still lives. 

John. That's a lie ! I saw her bur 

Karl. Silence, sir! 

Anna. And now that 1 have done all that 1 ca»i, I will ask you 
to forgive and excuse one in whose company [ know you .-irc 
ashamed to be. (starts to go but is stopped htj Kakl 

Karl. ]\[ay God bless you for this act; it makes me your friend, 
and I will see that no harm comes to you from him. Now, Jolin 
Perkins, for the sake of 3'our poor mother, I am gDing to let you go, 
but only on two conditions, and they arc : First, that you leave thiis 
town at once, and this country before twenty-four hours; for if you 
are in America to-morrow at six o'clock, I'll have you arrested for 
attempted murder. The second is that you give me two checks for 
fifty thousand dollars each, one for this young lady and the other 
for your poor old mother, who has to support lierself. 

John. But that — that will beggar 

Karl. Enough of that! all you have to do is accept or I'll ring I 

{starts toward the bell a>rd 
John. No, no ! I'll sign ! 

Karl. Oblige me, Mr. Sage, by seeing that those checks are ni:idc 
out in a correct manner. 

JoHX makes out checks and Sage hands them to Kakl. 

Karl. That is all right and now don't you dare to stop the pay- 
ment of these for if you do I'll hunt you down as 1 would a reptiJe. 
Now, sir, leave the country and don't you ever dare show your face 
here again, for I shall put a price on your capture. Now go ! 

{exit John, l. 

Karl. As it is useless for me to say anything fiu-ther, and as you 
probably wish to examine the papers, there they are. 

Lays papers on table; Sagk and Claki.ssa examine them. Kakl turns 
to Anna. 

Karl. Young woman, you have acted nobly and I want you to 
accept this (offers check) as a part alonement for whatever wrong 
he may have done. 



so BllAC; THE POOlt HOUSE GIUL, 

Anna. 1 cannot take it I I do not deserve tliis kindness from you. 
I was as much to blame as he. 

Karl. HUsh ! Let me hear no more ! You will accept it theu as 
a present from me, as all he has was given him, for he never saved 
a cent. Take it! {offers it again) and may it bring you the happi- 
ness your face tells me you have never had, and which I am sure 
you deserve. 

Kakl jjK^s check into Iter hands; she taJces his hand and raising it to 

her lips. 

Anna. This is too much for such as I ! {weeps bitterly 

Karl. There, there, don'c cry any morel You will find my car- 
riage at the door, and it will carry you wherever you wish to go. 

{exit Anna, r. 

Sage. I find everything satisfactory, with the exception that I 
^iiou'ld like to see the daughter. 

Karl. Your wish shall be gratified, {goes to door and calls Brac) 
Brae I Come this way, please. 

Sage and Clarissa j<«H^> up and stand staring at her in wonder token 
she enters and bows to them. 

Sage. What, Brac r 

C. For the land sakes ! I thought you was dead ! 

Brac. No, I'm not! But it's not Mr. Karl's fault, for he'is been 
trying to kill me with kindness for the past year, and now he's given 
it up and promised to let me do as I like. 

C. And so you are the heiress, and I'm your aunt ! Well, I 
never ! 

Brac. Heiress! I an heiress? 

Sage. Yes, Brac, you are the otd.y daughter of Luke Southen 
and he left half a million dollars. 

Brac. llow funny! Why, that's just the same amount as you 
had left to you I 

C. No, it Avas never left to me, and all I've left now is myself. 

Brac. What do you mean? Didn't you get any 

C. Yes, I got the experience of spendin' all my hard earned 
savin's, and of bein' made a fool of! 

Brac. Mr. Karl, is what they say true? Have I— am I to have 
all this money ? 

Karl. Yes, pet! 

Brac, And can I do — can I use some of it now, just as I please ? 

Karl, Why, certainly. 

Brac. Then I want you to give my guard enough so that she 
A\on't have to work any more. 

Karl. You wish me to place enough to her credit so that she will 
be provided for the rest of her days; is that it, Brac? 

Brac. Yes, sir ! and you must take it out of my money. 

C, You goin' to do this for me, Brac? Why, child, 1 never did 
anything foV you to deserve it. 

Brac. Then you will begin now b}' accepting my present and not 
saying anything more about it. 

Sage. You arc a remarkable young lady, and you deserve to be 
happy for helping yonr old friendln such a magnificent manner ; 
and now, Clarissa, supposing wc take a walk, and leave them for a 
time, as they must want to be alone after so important an event. 



BliAC ; THE FOOIi HOUSE CrIIiL. §1 

C\ (aside) Oli, he smiles on inc again. (ej-it loith Sage 

Brae. Tlic liook is baited once more, and she'll make a catcli this 
[]v.)c, snre. 

Karl. Well, Brae, now that you are rich J suppose tliat I can 
rotivo and not act the father over you any more, as you will not 
v.nnt for anything now. 

Jjrnc. Except a good kind father to plague and tornjent. No, 
fcirl you can't go! You stole me once, and now you've got to keep 
me; and if yoii try to run away I'll— I'll prosecute you, now you 

SfM,- ! 

Karl, lla! ha! ha! If you are going to try that, I think I'll 
stay, for 1 have a mortal dread of the law. 

Brae. Then, kidnapper, beware of my vengeance! But, Mr. 
Karl, you never told me how you escaped after being thrown over- 
board that night. 

Karl. Didn't 1? Why, I was sure I told you everything. 

Brae. So you did, except that, and that I was rich, you old fraud ! 

Karl. Ha! ha! ha! Well, I wanted to surprise you a little, and 
so kept it until I was sure of having it all settled. 

Brae. Well, I'll forgive you this time; but your story? 

Karl. Oh, it was simple enough; I was picked up by a man-of- 
\.-;ir bound for home, after floating upon a plank for several hours, 
r.nd was landed in Washington about one week after Jack landed in 
Xcw York, and followed him here. You already know the rest. 

in-ac. And you have done all of this for ray sake ! Oh, Mr. Karl, 
1 don't deserve to have such a friend. 

Karl. Come, come, you must not talk to me like that any more; 
you know that I have no one else to be kind to, and so you might let 
me have my own way a little. 

Brae. And so you shall! only forgive me this time and I promise 
that it shall not occur again. Oh, say I did you find out about—? 

KarL Ye», the dog is alive and so are the chickens, though they 
arc two years old now, and 

Brae. Xo, no! I don't mean them. I — I — mean 

Karl. Dorcas Jones? Why, yes, she's alive and doing a smart 
business, and 

Brae. Oh, bother her business! I want to know if you heard 
anything from 

Karl. From that farmer chap? Y'es, he's been married for some 
time and has one child a 

Brae. I don't care if they are twins ! I don't mean him ; I mean 
the other. 

Karl. What other? 

Brae. Why! Mr.— Why !— you know who I mean. 

Karl. I don't know how I should? 

Brae. But, you do ! you know I mean Mr. Wilder. 

Karl. Oh, ho ! So he's the one all this fuss is about, is he? Well, 
Brae, he has lost all of his property. 

Brae. I don't care anything about his property ; I want him. 

Karl. But, Brae, he is a very wild boy, I am told. 

Enter Bob, l., and stands at haek. 

Brae. Then I'll tame him ! so now ! 

Karl. Well, here he is, so you had better commence at once, or 
he Hooks from one to the other) Ha ! ha ! ha ! {cxitt Ka.rl, B.» 



S3 BBAC; THE POOR HOUSE aiKL. 

Br6'c. Mean old thing; he knew he was coming! I Avonder if he 
heard me? 

Bob. Eh— ahem— ah— Brae, don't you remember me? 

Brae, {hows very hmightUy) I beg pardon ! Mr. Wilder, I pre- 
sume, {aside) There, that's style ! 

Boh. {aside) Whew! wliat a set back ! [aloud) Yes, M^s Sou then, 
I have the honor of being that individual. Allow me to congratulate 
you upon your return to the scenes of your childhood. 

Brae. And allow me to thank you for all the favors and kind acts 
you did me in those days, {aside) 1 guess he's forgotten them by 
this time by the way he acts now ! 

Bob. Miss Southen, owing to some changes that have happened — 

Brae, (aside) So he's got a girl, too, has he? 

Boh. To me in this last year, I feel obliged to— I— I feel it 

Brae, (aside) I AVonder if it hurts him much I 

Bob. My duty to — to inform you 

Brae, dh, I know all about them ! 

Bob. You have heard of them, tlien? 

Brae. Jfo, nor they of me, either I 

Bob. I don't see how they could, for my linancial 

Brae. Oh, bother! all you men think of is money. There's dear 
old Mr. Karl always wondering what he'll do with his.* 

Bob. Why did Mr. Karl go away without giving me a chance to 
speak to him ? 

Brae. Because he kncAv that he wasn't wanted ! {aside) There! 

Bob. Brae, do you mean it? 

Brae. Bob, can you doubt it? (they embrace 

Bob. I don't know whether to believe it or not; and. Brae, you 
have not changed any? You are still my Brae? (kisses her 

Brae. Oh, Bob! Haven't you grown afraid of powder yet? 

Bob. No, nor never will while l have you for my powder bearer. 

(they sit 

Brae. Don't you go to making fun of me; if you do you'll be 
sorry. 

Bob, I heaid you say Avhen I came i:», that you would tame me, 
SO I suppose the sooner I give in (enter Kai;l,r.) the tamer you will 
make me. 

Karl, (aside) I should say that she had you pretty well tamed 
now. (aloud) Ahem I (Bor, and Huxc both /ump up 

Brae. Why! Mr. Karl! 

Bob. Ghul to see you back again, Mr. Karl. 

{advances and tihaken hands 

Karl. Thank you. Bob! you once saved my life, and [ never had 
a chance to thank you for your noble conduct; and now all that 1 
can sa,y is, that if there is ever anything that I can do for you, in 
any way, don't fail to ask inc. 

Boh. Mr. Karl, the service that I rendered aou was no more than 
any one else would have doue, aiul I would i)rcfer that it w as not 
mentioned again. But, ]\[r. Karl, I have a great favor to ask of you. 
Karl. Well, what is it? 

Bob. 1 want j^ou to give me Brae. 1 love her and I know that 
she returns my affection. I tlo not ask for her now, for as you know 
I am poor and have nothing but my hands to help me through life, 
but with your promise and her's and the best wishes of j^ou both I 
shall have twice the strength and courage to tight and win life's 
battle. 



BBAC; THE FDOIl HOUSE GIEL. S3 

Brae, {(joes to Karl and sa>js, aside) Say ''yes;" I've got money 
enough for both. 
• Karl, Well, Brae! What do you say to this? 

Brae. I — I like Bob and — and — I don't want to let him go away 
from me, and you know I don't! 

Karl. Whew! Well, sir! you can have her, but let me tell you 
that she is penniless, and after the wedding I will throw her over, 
as I can't afford to be hanging around here any longer. 

Bob. Sir, if she is as you s\iy, and stands on an equal footing with 
me, I will marry her at once, for it was only her money that" made 
me Avant to wait. 

Brae. 1 am not pen (Kaiil stops her 

Karl. If that is your reason, 3'ou need not hesitate any longer, 
for I assure you that she has no more property than you. 

Bob. Oh, Bi-ac ! 

Brae. Oh, Bob ! {they embrace 

Karl. There, that makes me young again. 

Enter Sage and Clakissa, l. 

Sage. Mr. Karl, I am about to make Miss Clarissa my wife. 

Brae. He's landed at last. 

Sage. And as we have decided to go and have it done quietly we 
A\ ouid be grently honored if you would all go over to the chapel 
with us. 

Karl. Of course we will ! but I insist on having a double wed- 
ding, so yo»i two young folks hurry up and get ready. (Karl takes 
UiiAC aside and soiis) Xow not a \\ord about your property until 
after you are married, and then you may tell him and lay the blame 
all on me; and as [ want a private secretary, I will take Bob. 

Brae. Oh, you dear old humbug! {gives him a hug and kiss 

Sage. Are we all ready? 

C. I am, dear Ransom. 

Bob. All read}'. 

Brae. And waiting. 

Karl. Then we will go at once to the chapel and have the cere- 
mony performed, and make these couples the happiest in the land. 

{prepare to exit as the 

curtain falls. 



EVERY AMATEUR 

WANTS A COPY , 
And Should Order it at Once 1 1 



HINTS TO AMATEURS 

BY A. D. AMES. 



A book of useful information for Amateurs and others, written 
expressly for those who are giving public entertainments — and who 
wish to make tlieir efforts successful — containing much information 
never before given. Mr. Ames has had many years experience, and 
in this work gives many hints which cannot fail to be of great bene- 
fit to all. 



Do you wish to know IIow to act? 

Do you wisli to know IIow to make up? 

Do you wish to know IIow to make fuses? 

Do you wish to know IIow to be prompted ? 

Do you wish to know IIow to imitate clouds? 

Do you wish to know IIow to imitate waves? 

Do you wish to know How to make thunder? 

Do you wish to know How to produce snow ? 

Do you wish to know How to articulate? 

Df you wish to know IIow to make lightning? 

Do you wish to know How to produce a crash ? 

Do you wish to know How to make a wind-storm ? 

Do you wish to know How to be successful on the singe? 

Do you wish to know The effects of the drama on the mind ? 

Do you wish to know IIow to assign parts successfully? 

Do you wish to know The duties of the property man? 

Do you wish to know How to arrange music for plays? 

Do you wish to know ^iany hints about the stage? " 

Do you wish to know IIow to form a dramatic club? 

Do you wish to know The duties of a manager? 

Do you wish to know The duty of the prompter? 

Do you wish to know How to conduct rehearsals? 

Do you wish to know The best method of studying? 

Do you wish to know IIow to make a stage laugh? 

Do you wish to know How to burn a colored fire? 

Do you wish to know IIow to make a rain storm? 

Do 3^ou wish to know A short history of the drama? 

Do you wish to know All about scene painting? 

Do you wish to know Macready's method of acting? 

If you wish to know the above, read Hints to Amateurs, it will ^ 
•ent you for 15 cen*^^ npr copy 



HflL HAZARD; OR. THE FEDERAL SPY. 

A Mditarv Drama of the late war of the Rebellion^ in four acte, 
BY FRE D. G. AN DREWS. 

This drama is a great success, and is published now for the first time, from tb« 
author's original manuscript. There has been a demand for a play which could be 
used by Grand Army Posts, Military Companies, etc.. which would be eflfective. and 
yet not difficult to represent. This want Hal Hazard wiU supply. 

It has eight male characters and three female. A fpw soldiers both U. S. and C. 
S., may be used, bat there is no elaborate dulls or diflicult sta^e business to try the 
patience of the manager. It takes from 1% to 2 hours to present it. 

The lading character isa double one— "Gleorge Clarendon," who assumes the char- 
ter of "Old llal" a very deaf an 1 shrewd old man, who is equally at home in the 
Confederate or Federal Camp. As the Spy he is always on hand at the proper time, 
and always comes out ahead in all places where h s services are needed. The other 
characters are all good, consisting of a captain and lieutenant in the U. S. Army, 
and four Confederates. Generals Sherman, Stoneman and Garrard are represented, 
but may be omitted if desired. There is also an excellent Leading Lady, Old Wo- 
man and Negro Comedy Woman. 

Those who order and produce this play will bo more than pleased.— Price 25c, 

"Sirnphj Immense!" is the verdict of every company which produces it, and every one 

icho reads it/ Two hours of continual screams of laughter!/ Ihe funniest 

of all modern comedies, entitled, 

AN AFFLICTED FAMILY; 

OK, A DOCTOR WITOOLT A DSrtOJIA, 

BY MALCOLM S. lA YLOR. 

There is always a demand for a Play which is funny, and wr"tten in such a wny as 
to be easily represented as regards scenery, and not to difficult in its repie.^eiitation. 
This Comedy will be found all that is desircul. The following is a description of the 
characters: 

C. Crotchet, a retired merchant, sick inthe sj}leen. 

B. Frizzy, a barber addicted to punning and scrapes. 

Dr. G, Linton .,a practical physician, troubled with patients. 

L. Staple a young merchant, subject to bashfnlnesa. 

Clarence astudent, inclined to ale. 

John Ilenry ~ a manservant complaining'of nothing to do. 

1. Seizer, a constable, used to take away bad effects. 

Mrs. Crotchet, an invalid, ill with nervousness. 

Dolly; hefnS^^^'''} ^''^^ "^"'''"'^ "^"'^ " diseaseofthe heart, called love. 

Dorothy, a maiden aunt, afflicted with deafness, knitting, and a poodle dog. 

Betty, a maidservant, suffering out of sympathy for Frizzy. 

Each one of the above characters is worthy the talent of the best comedy re.pre- 
ientatives, either in or out of the Profession. Amateurs especially will find the Play 
eminently suited to their wants. It is in four acts, each act consisting of only one 
scene. The costumes modem, and scenes all interiors, enabling companies with a 
limited stock of scenery to produce it easily. Nothing like a description of the ludi- 
crous and laughable situations can be given here— but we can truly assure our friends 
that nearly every speech is a signal for roars of laughter and rounds of applause. If 
you want something pathetic don't send for it, but if you desire fun from the rise of 
the curtain on the first act, till its fall on the last act, you may be sure of not being 
disappointed if you order this. Price 15 cents per copy. 



ALWAYS GET THE ?^\^iA§=£iaS"Ve*?r'S 

■*-^^-^ »y-a.-i.a.K_^ ting ^p q^j, ijgijtg in tin boxes, expressly to go by i 



AND GREEN 

are now put- 

. , , ,. , ., . . . by mail— each 

box contains enough material for one light, with a fuse for lighting, and full and cx- 
plimt directions for burning thom. These lights are not excelled by any for brilliancy 
—they burn steadily and slowly— they do not contain a partical of sulphur, and are 
free from offensive odors, and are sure to give perfect satisfaction. 

i^" Do not ruin your tableaux by an inferior light when it is so easy to procure 
good ones. Price 25 cents per box. 
Orders filled by return mail for either color. Address. 

A. D. AMES, PUJB., 

LOCK Box 102. CLYDE, OHIO. 



New Temperance Cantata for the Little 

Ones! 

ON TO VICTORY, 

BY 



IDA M. BTJXTOy^. 

This Cantat.1 supplies a Avant long felt. Nearly all pul^^shed are either too long, 
or from the difficult music, or complex stage business quite beyond the reach of the 
general juvenile companies. This one was written especially to obviate all thesa 
difficulties, and at once give to those desiring, a taking and effective piece. 

It is designed for Juvenile Temples, Sabbath Schools, etc., and requires only a 
platform, no scenery being necessary for its production. 

The words are all set to old airs, familiar to every one. The stage directions are 
plainly given, and no diflculty will be experienced in preparing it for public presen- 
tation. 

The following are the characters represented. 

UNCLE /S'vl J/: — Dressed in a suit of Eed, White and 

Blue. 
DRUNKABUS DAUGHTER.— In ragged clothes. 
DEBORAK— Who leads the chorus of girls. 
OAFT, FROinBITION-^Whohiichthe chorus of boys 
BBOTHEB. 
SISTEB. 
FOUB GIBLS, dressed in white, representing Maine, 

.Kansas, Iowa and Rhode Island — the latter being r 

small girl. Each one carries a shield with the name 

of her state. 
CHOBUS OF BOYS. 
CIIOBUS OF GIBLS. 
The Choruses may consist of any number convenient. 

Please order a sample copy, look it over carefully and see it does not please you. 
PRICE 25 CENTS PER COPY. 



NEW MILITARY ALLEGORY! 



SPY O F ATL ANTA 

A Grand Military Allegory in 6 acts, by A. D. Ames and C. O. Bartloy, 14 male, S 
female characters, with as many supernumerary la lies and gents as the stage may 
afford room for. This great pluy is founded on incidents wliich actually occured 
during the war of the Rebellion— it introduces Ohio's brave and gallant McPherson 
—the actual manner of his capture and death is shown. It abounds with most beau- 
tiful tableaux, drill, marches, tccncs upon the battle licld, in Andersonvillc, etc., 
and ia pronounced by press and public, the most successful military play ever pro- 
duced. G. A. R. Posts, Military Companies and other organizations, who may wish 
Bomething which will draw, should produce it. It may not be out of place to add 
that this play with the incidents of the death of the gallant McPherson, was written 
with the full consent of the General's brother, 11. 13. McPherson, since dead, who 
fully approved of it. Below will be found a synopsis of incidents, etc. 

SYNOPSIS OF INCIDENTS. 

ACT I. 

Ilome of Fanner Dalton. "Don't talk politics." The dinner hour. News from 
Fort Sumter, and call for 75 000 men. Quarrel of old friends. "They hung traitors 
in former times." Oath of vengeance. The patriotic Dutchman. His wonderful 
Btory. Husband and wife. "Go, and may God bless you," Little Willie. "Dot 
dog. The Dutchman organizes a company. Parting of lovers, and "parting forever." 
"Country fir^t and love afterwards." Schneider, the Dutchman, and his new com- 
pany, lie means business and shows his "poys" that he understands military bus- 
iness. Enlisting. Schneider and his company sign the rolls. The Daltons. "Hus- 
band must you go?" Duty. Little Willie. "Please mother, may I go?" Presenta- 
tion of the flag. Parting of loved ones. 

ACT II. 

Camp by night. The letter from home. Array duties. Bongs and merriment. 
Tenting on the old camp ground. Inspection of the regiment. Generals McPherson 
and Sherman. News from Atlanta. A brave man required. The dangerous mission. 
Promise of promotion given by McPherson. Departure of tho spy. The Confederate 
camp. Cant. St. Clair's soliloquy. Plotting. Pete. The old Negro is used rather 

g>ughly. Father and son. The man who stutters so ba"^dlv. Tho discovery. A spy. 
o your worst, you cowardly traitor. Pete makes himself useful. No chance of 
life. Thrilling tableau and capture of St. Clair. Escape of St. Clair. The pur- 
suit. Generals McPherson and Sherman. News from the front, McPherson pre- 
Saring for battle. Firing on the left. I must at once ascertain the cause. The 
lebel squad. McPherson's danger. "Halt and surrender," The fatal shot. "It 
is General McPherson; you have killed the best man in the Union Army." 

ACT III. 

Return of the spy. Sherman hears of the death of Mi friend. The enemy's Unea 
in motion. The long roll and general engagement. 

ACT IV. 

Battlefield by night. "Waterl I am dying for want of water." Little Willie 
The traitor forgiven. Edwin and Willi© are made prisoners. The discovery, and 
renewal of the oath of vengeance. 

ACT T. 

Andersonrille with all its horrors. Hope of being exchanged. The last crust of 
bread. St. Clair informs Edwin of the arrival of his wife. Fears of insanity, and 
prayers to God for reason to know her. The m.miac. "Oh brother, don't you know 
me?" I am your brother Willie." Maud arrives. Terror on beholding her husband. 
"He must know mo." The picture. The recognition of the picture, and "you are- 
no I can not be wrong, you are Maud, my wife, thank God." Villainy of St. Clair.. 
The cry for bread. Bravery of Willie. The fatal shot, and death of the brave boy. 
Madness. The curse. "Boys, let us pray that this may soon end." The rescue. 

ACT VI. 

News of the surrender of Lee. The new love. The vacant chair. Happiness of 
Peto. Betam of the boys, and joyful meeting of loved ones. 
PRICE 85 CENTS PER COPT* 



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Tliat Little Black Mustache.— Comic Song and chorus, by James M. Dow 
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Fayette Waltz.— For Piano and organ, by Will R. Reynolds. Easy and very 
pretty. Price 25 cents. 

Wait for the Turn of the Tide.— As sung in Wilkins' Drama "The Turn of the. 
Tide." Arranged as a quartette by Will R. Reynolds. Very suitable for exhibi- 
tions, as it is easy and at the same time very pleasing. Price 30 cents. 

My Nams vas Helnrich Hans.— A roaring Dutch song, words by W. II. Span- 
gler, jr., inasic by F. 0. ^Vilson. A great success and pronounced by both press and 
public the greatest hit of many years. Price 30 cents. 

Dere vas ein Leedle Deitcher Gal —A capital Dutch song for male voices, 
words by W. II. Spangler, jr., music by F. 0. AYilsoia. Can be used as a solo, or as a 
8(>lo and chorus. Price 30 cents. 

A Hc*alth to our Hostess.— A male quartette, words by W. H. Spangler jr„ 
words by F. 0. Wilson. It is sure to please all who purchase it. Price 30 cents. 

We are Jolly Fellows.— Quartette for male voices, words by W. H. Spangler jr., 
music by F. 0. Wilson. Not difficult but will please all who purchase is. By mail 
KO cents. 

Here you Behold Us.— Quartette for male voices, words by W. H. Spangler, jr., 
music by F. 0. Wilson. Fully up to the standard of excellency. By mail 40 cents. 

Colored Tableau Lights.— For use in Tableaux and Illuminations, and to 
heighten the effect of stage scenes, especially in spectacular plays. As these lights 
contain no sw/i)/mr, they arc not subject to spontaneous combustion, and burn with 
less smoke and odor than any other similar compounds. They emit an intense light, 
requiring no reflector. They are made in red and f/reen only. We are putting up our 
Colored Fires in a box containing enougli material for one light, with fuses ready for 
use for 2.5c by mail. Per one-half pound Sl.OO. Per pound (by express,) $1.50 Per 
pound (by mail) $1.75. 

Magnesium Tableau Lights.— Are first class for the following reasons: They do 
not smoke; are always ready; they Avill not explode; they are easily ignited; are 
wonderfully brilliant, burning with an intensity of 74 stearine candles; are perfect- 
ly safe under all circumstances. They can easily and safely be sent to any part of 
the United States. One of these magnesium lights will be amply sufficient for two 
^bleaux, unless they are unusually ifing. We will send them by mail for 25 cetits 
sach, and prepay all charges. 

Lightning for Private Theat. acals.— Very maay ^ssmajn contain storms, 
which unlci-s given in an artistic manner are more laughable than otherwise. To 
make them successful good lightning is essential. We will send a package of ma- 
terial for this purpose, with full printed directions for its use, to any^ address, for 
W cents. The effect produced by it Avill be found all that can be desired. 

Spirit Powder.— For fastening whiskers or mustache to the face. Will adhere 
rcry strongly in the hottest weather. Price per package 25 eonts. 

Happy Frank's Comic Song and Joke Book.— Con tMOS a lAoice collection of 
original songs, jokes, conundrums, stump speeches' etc. In addition to the above, it 
also contains one complete Dutch sketch, one Ethiopean farce, and a Negro sketch, 
all of which have never before been published. Price 15c. per copy. 

A NEW PLAY OF INTENSE INTEREST. 

. FIELDING MANOR. 

A drama in a prologue and four acts by Dr. M. L. Wright, from Edwin Faucet'e 
story "The False Friend." 

This play is immensely popular and ranks side by side with "East Lynne," and 
other standard dramas of like character. The story and plot are of intense interest, 
— it has nine male and six female characters. The sad portions are nicely contrast- 
ed with several comedy scenes, and the play will never fail to please an audience if 
well cast and presented. Nothing like a description of the play can be given, but 
the characters are as follows: Leading, villian, juvenile, two comedy, old man, and 
three utility, constitute the male portion; the female characters are leading, juven- 
ile, old lady and three comedy, the whole forming an evenly balanced and excellent 
cast. Dramatic comp.anies desiring something good will do well to order this ^lAy, 
and they will not be disappointed. Price 15 cents per copy. 



PLEASE GIVE THIS CAREFUL ATTENTION. 

To provcnt the possibility of disappointment to our patrons, we ask a careful po- 
usal of the followin:?. 

H C^ W TO C) R D F R ^^^Ite your orders in as few words as possible, 
iiwvv xw wxvA^x^i.v. jjjj J gj^g plainly the names of the plays, books, 
music or articles you wish, and do not forget to give your name, and poatoffice address 
in every leitcr. Also state the amount of money enclosed. 

CASH WITH ORDFRS under no circumstances win wo en 
, \. VV 1 J n WIVl^ri.JXO. orders, unless a remittance accompan- 

ies them sufficient to cover the price of goods. It is useless to telegraph ua "send so 
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order. If you are not positive as to the cost of Avhat you wish, send a sufficient 
amount to cover the same— any surplus will be promptly returned or placed to your 
credit as you may desire. 

How TO RFMIT Always send a Postoffico order payable to A- 
1 IV. / V V 1 y ^^^Y , / V- Ames if possible, or a postal note for sums 
lees than five dollars, A bank dratt on New Yoi-k is also a safe way. If neither of 
the iibove is available, get your posUnuster to register j-our letter. Money may be 
cent at our risk by either of the above methods, J3®=- We furnish free printed 
envelopes with our a klress to any one on application— please use them, -®ar 

POSTAOF STAA^PS stamps clean and npw of any denomination 
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over one dollar. Canada stamps we cannot use, 

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the next mail. 

RFMFMRFR ^^^'^ ^^® ^^^ ^^^ yo""^ orders for any play, dialogue book' 
x^x^i j-x^i xj^x_^xv speaker, guide book, piece of music, or anything in tho line 
of amateur supplies, such as wigs, beards, mustaches, face powders, paints, colored 
fires, lightning— in a Avord, anything ever required in a public entertainment. We 
have secure I an extenoivj patronage by careful and prompt attention to all our 
orders and correspondence, and it shall not be lost through any neglect of ours. Care- 
ful attention is given to the filling of all orders whether large or small. This houso 
carries the largest stock Avest of New York, Avhich embraces the publications of all 
dramatic publishers, together with all supplies which they adA'ertise, hence patrons 
are as sure of receiving what they order from us as if they sent to the publishers 
themselves, A trial order Avill convince you. If it is possible to please you, we will 
do it, 

PLAYS TO SUIT COMPANIES. X1r,rr!S/^£ 

procuring Plays Avell adapted to their wants, frequently ordering perhaps five dol- 
lar's worth in single copies, before anything suitable can be found. Our catalogue 
embraces plays suitable for any and all companies, aild if our friends Avill write to 
us, state ng the requirements of their companies, there need be no trouble, in this 
line at least. If a temperance society wants plays, we have something for them. If 
a company wants something which is very funny, we can suit them. In fact, we 
have dramas, farces, tragedies and comedies Avhich uuY^ suit you. Enc'ose 15 cents 
per copy, for as many copies as you may need, and we guarantee to suit you, if you 
will state the size of your company, and Avhether best adopted to the serious or fun- 
ny. Also state Avhat you have presented, 

MANUSCRIPT PI AYS P^^^ties Avho have Mss., to dispose of 

whateA'er may be meritorious, on terms Avhich will be satisfactory, 

LETTERS OF INOUIRY ^^^^^ '^'^^-'•J's ^c ansAvered promptly. 
l^ILillLlVO yfr liNV^Uirs.! Enclose return postage, and state 
briefly just what you Avant to knoAV, If possible for us to assist you, Ave shall always 
be ready to do so. 

Address, 

A. D. AMES, Publisher. 

Lock Bo.x 102. CLYDE, OHIO. 



A NEAA^ COMEDY 1 



And an Entirely Successful One. 



■(o)- 



PKIIVTKID FR09I THE AIJTHOK'S OBIGIKA]^ 
MANUSCRIPT. 

The Ieroic Dutchman 

OF SEVENTY-SIX. 



BY V. B. GmiNNELL, 



The following are the characters represented: 

FRED, the ITerotc DutcJman. 

COLONEL BROWN An old vuui, and a Tory— an ex- 
Colonel of the French and Indian war. 

MAJOR JONES a Tory, and a British Officer. 

HARRY WALTERS, a Rebel Captain. 

CAPTAIN LILE a British Officer. 

SAM, colored servant of Colonel Brown' «. 

TOM British Corporal. 

SENTINEL, 

K^TE^BRrnVN } daughter, of Col. Broum. 

BRIDGET : 

This play was presented by its author a number of years from Mss., and re- 
ceived everywhere presented with unbounded enthusiasm. The character of 
the Dutchman is very, very laughable, and cannot fail to "bring down the 
house" every time. A negro character also is very funny. It has beside 
these, old man, villian, two juveniles, and two utility. The ladies are lead- 
ing, juvenile and Irish comedy. 

The scenery is simple, the piece can be produced on any stage. 

>e®" There is no charge for its production. Order a copy, read it and 
laugh— Produce it and let your friends do the same. Price 15c. per copy. 
Address, 



A. D. AMES, Publisher, 

CLYDE, O. 



9^ 



iiiHEs' Plays — CnntinuEii. 



=-E 



NO. 

72 
19 
42 
18o 
220 
148 
218 
224 
233 
154 
184 
209 
13 
66 
116 
120 
103 

50 

140 

74 

35 

47 

95 

11 

99 

82 

182 

127 

228 

106 

139 

231 

235 

69 

1 

158 

23 

208 

212 

32 

186 

44 

33 

57 

217 

165 

195 

159 

171 

180 

48 

138 

115 

55 

232 

137 

40 

38 

131 

101 

167 

68 

M 



FARCES CONTINUED. 

Deuce is in Him 5 1 

Did i Dream it 4 3 

Domesric Felicity 1 1 

Dutch Prize Fighter 3 

D. itchy vs. Nigger 3 

Eh? Wi at Did You Say 3 1 

Everybody Astonished 4 

Fooling with the Wrong Man 2 1 

Freezing a Mother-in-Law... 2 1 

Fun in a Post Office 4 2 

Family Discipline -. 1 

Goose with the Golden Eggs.. 5 3 

Give Me Mv Wife 3 3 

Hans, the Dutch J. P 3 1 

Hash 4 2 

H. M.S. Plum 1 1 

How Sister Paxey got her 

Child Baptiz d 2 1 

How She has Own Way 1 3 

How He Popped the Quest'n. 1 1 

How to Tame M-in-Law 4 2 

How Stout Vour Getting 5 2 

In the Wrong Box 3 

In the Wrong Clothes 5 3 

John Smith 5 3 

Jumbo Jum » 4 3 

Killing Time 1 1 

Kittie'- Wedding Cake 1 3 

Lick Skillet Wedding 2 2 

L -ider bach's Little Surprise 3 

Lodgings for Two 3 

Matrimonial Bliss 1 1 

Match for a Mother-in-Law.. 2 2 

More Blunders than one 4 3 

Mother's Fool 6 1 

Mr. and Mrs. Pringle 7 4 

Mr. Hudson's Tiger Hunt 1 1 

My Heart's in Highlands 4 3 

A y Precious Betsey 4 4 

My Turn Next 4 3 

Mv AVife's Relations 4 4 

My Day and Now-a-Days 1 

Obedience 1 2 

On the Sly 3 2 

Paddy Miles' Boy 5 2 

Patent Washing Machine 4 1 

Persecuted Dutchman 6 3 

Poor Pilicody 2 3 

Quiet Family 4 4 

Rough Diamond 4 3 

Ripples 2 

Schnaps 1 1 

Sewing Circle of Puriod 5 

S. H. A. M. Pinafore 3 3 

Somebody's Nobody 3 2 

Stage Struck Yankee 4 2 

Taking the Census 1 1 

That Mysterious B'dle 2 2 

The Bewitched Closet 5 2 

The Cigarette 4 2 

The Coming Man 3 1 

Turn Him Out 3 2 

The Sham Professor 4 

The Two T. J's 4 2 



28 Thirtj-- three Next Birthday.. 

142 Tit for Tat ;.,. 

213 Vermont Wool Dealer..."..*...'" 
151 Wanted a Husband " 

5 AVnen Women Weep 

56 Wooing Under Difficulties.-.. 

/O Whicu will he Marry 

135 Widower's Trials 

147 Waking Him Up 

15o Why they Joined the Re- 
beccas 

Ill Yankee Duelist ...L'. 

157 Yankee Peddler .'."! 

ETHIOPIAN farces! 

204 Academy of Stars 

15 An Unhappy Pair '.'.'." 

172 Black Shoemaker 

98 Black Statue "'* 

222 Colored Senators '.'. 

214 Chops 

145 Cuff's Luck .".;""■." 

190 Crimps Trip "* 

27 Fetter Lane to Gravesend...." 

230 Hamlet the Dainty 

153 Haunted House .".*.'. 

24 Handy Andy „...'. 

236 Hypochondriac The 

77 Joe's Vis t 

88 Mischievous Nigger „. .' " 

128 Musical D.irkey 

90 No Cure No Pay * 

61 Not as Deaf as He Seems 

2S4 Old Dad's Cabin .!.. 

150 OldPompey ' 

109 Other People's Children 

134 Pomp's Pranks 

177 Quarrelsome Servants » 

96 Rooms to Let „ 

107 School 

133 Seeing Bosting ."'.!!'.! 

179 Sham Doctor 

94 1(3.000 Years Ago 

25 Sport with a Sportsman 

92 Stage Struck Darkey ^ 

10 Slocks Up, Stocks Down 

64 That Boy Sam 

122 The Select School „ 

lis The Popcorn Man „.... 

6 The Studio 

108 Those Awful Boys 

4 Twain's Dodging 

197 Tricks 

198 Uncle Jeff 

170 U. S. Mail 

216 Vice Versa 

206 Villkens and Dinah 

210 Virginia MuiT my 

203 Who Stole th<, Chickens 

205 William Tell 

156 Wig-Maker and Uu Servants 

GUIDE BOOKS. 

17 Hints on Elocution „ 

130 Hvnts to Amateurs 



4 
3 1 
7 3 





1 


3 


2 1 

2 

3 1 



1^ cantata. 215 On to Victory (with chorus) 25 cents 4 6 JI 



• 



jf^ PLAYS RECENTLY P ' SjSr«,;«l,r'''''' 

L P PRICE 15 CENTS E l"''"''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''^^^ 




219 Rags and Bottles. An original come 

Taylor, 4 males, 1 female. A play by the author of 1 _ ^ „„„„,„„„„„ „„ ,„ ,,,,,,1 

guarantee of its excellence. Kags and Bottles are t p. 011= oiffl «oc 
follows their fortunes through good and bad. An op K) WID 310 085 5 (, 
songs and dances. The balance of the characters are goou. v/ostumco uiuvtoixi. ^^^» 

of performance 1 1-2 hours. 

220 Dutchey vs. Nigger. An original sketch in 1 scene, by James 0. 
Luster, 3 males. A landlord has two servants— one a Dutchman, the other a negro, 
who are continually playing tricks upon each other, which are very laughable. Time 
in playing about 20 minutes. Costumes modern. 

221 Solon Shingle; or the People's La-uryer. A comedy in 2 acts, 
by J. S. Jones. An excellent play, and easily put on the stage, the scenery not be- 
in °- difficult to arrange. Some of the best Comedians have starred in the character of 
Solon Shingle. Costumes modern. Time of performance 1% hours. 

222 The Colored Senators. An Ethiopian burlesque in 1 scene, by Bert 
Eichards, 3 males. Avery laughable experience of two darkey's, who became dead 
broke and hungry— their schemes to get a meal of the landlord of a hotel, are very 
amusing. Costumes modern. Time of performance, 25 minutes. 

223 Old Honesty. A Domestic drama in 2 acts, by John Madison Morton, 
6 males, 2 females. An excellent play with a good moral, showing the truth of the 
old saying that "Honesty is the best Policy." Scenery, interiors. Costumes modern. 
Time about 2 hours. _ _^ ^^ , ^ 

224 Fooling with the Wrong Man. An Original farce m 1 act, by 
Bert Richards, 2 males, 1 female. Characters are an Irishman who is not such a fool 
as he looks, a dude, and a society belle. The situations are very funny, and the 
farce must be read to be appreciated. Costumes eccentric to suit. Time of perform- 
ance 35 minutes, , . „ , -r* t. . , 

225 Cupids' Capers. A farce-comedy in 3 aets, by Bert Richards, 4 males, 
4 females. Overtiows with fun from beginning to end. A lawyer, his son, a Dutch- 
man, and a negro are the male characters. A giddy widow and her beautiful daugh- 
ter, a German servant girl, and the Irish hotel proprietress are th^ females. Costumes 
modern. Time of performance about 1 hour. 

226 Brae the Poor House Girl. A drama in three acts, by C. L. Piper, 
4 males, 4 females. The character of Brae, is a capital one for a scnbrette, after the 
style of Fanchon the Cricket, etc. All characters are good. It aboun s in fine situa- 
tions, and is a great success. Costumes modern. Time of performance 2 hours. 

22*7 Maud's Peril. A drama in 4 acts, by Watts Phillips, 5 males 3 ^einales. 
A very populor drama of the present time. Strong and sensational. English Cos- 
tumes of the pr<Mient time. Easily put on the stage. Time 1 1-2 hours. 

228 Liauderbauch's Liittle Surprise. An Original farce in one scene, 
by B. Henri Bauman, 3 males. A roaring piece, the humor being about equally divid- 
ed between a Dutchman— a negro diguised as a woman, an<i a negro boy. Costumes 
modern. Place anywhere. Time of performance 20 minutes, 

229 The Mountebanks- A Specialty-drama in 4 acts, by Fred. G. An- 
drews, 6 males 2 females. Two of the characters assume various disguises, at once 
effective and artistic. The drama is replete with fine situations, and unlocked-, or 
developments. Mirth and sadness are well cumbined. Costumes modern. Tim© 
of performance 2 hours. An American drama of the pre.-eut time. 

230 Hamlet the Dainty. An Ethiopian burlesque on Shakespeare's 
Hamlet, by Griffin, 6 males, 1 female. Burlesque costumes of Hamlet. Very fun- 
ny. Time 15 minutes. 

231 Match for a Mother-in-Law. A Comedietta in 1 act, by Wybcrt 
Reeve, 3 males, 2 females. The henpecked husband, his friend, a servant, the wife 
and the mother-in-law, constitutes the dramatis persome. Very suitable for private 
and amateur use, as well as professional. Costumes modern. Interior scene. Time 

232 Stage Struck Yankee. A farce in 1 act, by 0. E. Durivage, 4 males. 
2 females. Scenes, interiors. A Yankee becomes badly stage struck, by seeing a 
play in a barn, discards his affianced for an actress. The manner of his becoming 
disenchanted, is shown in the play. It is full of laugh. Time 45 minutes. 

233 Freezing a Mother-in-law. A f.uce in in 1 act, by T. E, Pember- 
ton, 3 males, 2 femaies. Costumes modern. One interior scene. Old man 2 walk- 
ing gents, old woman, walking lady. A mother-in-law is to bo froze 1 in order to 
gain her consent to her daughter's marriage. She discovers the plot, substitutes 
water for the freezing fluid, yet pretends to .be equally affectual by it. Time 45 
ininutes. 

234 Old Dad's Cabin. An Ethiopian fuiee in one act, by Charles "White, 
2 males, 1 female. An excellent darkey play, fnll of good situations and sparkling 
dialogue. Costumes modern. Time 40 minuus. 



liiiiii. 

015 910 08O o 



